


Everything he deserves

by Sapientia



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, No Bashing, realistic characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-09-17 23:26:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 43,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9351056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sapientia/pseuds/Sapientia
Summary: The very Moment Harry was left at the doorstep of Number four, Privet drive, the protection of his mother and his own, already powerful magical core, did their duty. As the main reason of their existence was to protect Harry, they sent him away, to a place where he would be provided with love, a family, and - most importantly - the childhood he deserved. One question remains however: When the time comes, will he fight for what he left behind?





	1. Arrival - Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello human beings who are reading this ;)
> 
> This is going to be a Harry Potter / Lord of the Rings Crossover Fanfic (surprise...). I have read all of the Lord of the Rings Books, and the hobbit, though not the original English version. I sadly don't possess that wonderful work of art, only the translated edition. I have read all of the Harry Potter Books and I'm fairly sure you could call me a fanatic. I've been watching all of the movies in both series, but I like the books better, and thus will take those as canon.
> 
> So, I thought, that maybe there were some people interested in my ideas. I'm really sorry, if there are any similarities to other fanfictions. If there are, I didn't plan on it.
> 
> Any similarities between a character of mine and an actual person (living or not) are written unintentionally and not on purpose.
> 
>  
> 
> !There will be violence. When it gets really brutal, I will warn you at the beginning of the chapter. Please look out for that if you don't like these kinds of scenes!
> 
>  
> 
> I have to admit that English is only my second language. But I do have a beta-reader so my English shouldn't be too terrible.
> 
> I'm not always going on canon-Pairings, but I will do it a lot. Harry/Ginny will be an important part of the story.
> 
> I will be updating as often as it is possible for me. I'm in a very stressful phase just before High-school graduation, and have to invest a lot of my free time in school, leaving my hobbies unattended.
> 
> I own neither Lord of the Rings, nor Harry Potter, as if I did, I would be rich and famous and not writing Fanfictions to satisfy my little Fangirl-heart. If there are any similarities between phrases in my story and the Books of either series, it's probably not mine, but borrowed.
> 
> Italic written phrases will most likely be Sindarin, except for the HP-quote in the beginning. I just marked it to make clear, what is part of the book.
> 
> Yeah, that's pretty much all information I give to give you. Future notes won't be this long, sorry you had to endure this. Enjoy :D

* * *

 

**°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°**

 

* * *

 

_"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply._

_Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-outer. He clicked it once and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four._

_"Good luck, Harry," he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak he was gone. A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on._

_(Harry Potter and The Philosopher's Stone, Chapter 1: The Boy Who Lived)_

 

* * *

 

**°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°**

* * *

 

Harry may not have been aware of the fact that right at this moment, remaining Death Eaters were trying to reach the Dursleys' house. He may also not have been aware of the fact that his relatives would be treating him as badly as possible from his first day with them should they have taken him in.

The protection of his mother however, as well as his own powerful magical core, knew all of these things. As they were both there for a main reason – to protect Harry – the two mighty, magical forces did what you could call accidental magic. They brought him far away to a safe place, a place where he would be given love and protection, where he would be prepared for his destiny. His destiny to fight.

If somebody in Privet Drive had, for whatever reason, been looking outside the window at this particular time, they would have seen nothing but darkness, for in front of Number Four was a hole that swallowed every bit of light. It was through this very hole that Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, was transported, without ever being woken. In fact, Harry had a rather pleasant dream involving his father, godfather and his fabulous toy-broomstick. When he finally landed on damp leaves over a mossy ground, he merely turned around in his blankets, sleepily wondering why his mummy hadn't stood up after that strange snake-man was gone.

 

* * *

 

**°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°**

 

* * *

 

A lone Elf wandering around was not an unfamiliar sight in Mirkwood. What was an unfamiliar sight in Mirkwood, however, was that this Elf was wandering around alone, for this Elf was Legolas, the Elven Prince of Mirkwood, and he was usually surrounded by a great amount of friends. However, today, Legolas had felt like going out alone. It was nearly as if a voice was calling out to him. What he didn't know, was that there was indeed a voice calling for him—as much as Harry's magic could have a voice.

Curious about the source of this feeling, Legolas had sneaked out before anyone else was awake to ensure that he would be truly alone. All his senses on high alert, and he recognised everything as normal as it could be in a place where Elves live. But wait… did he just hear a child? A sobbing child? Cautious, he crept nearer. Maybe this was some sort of trick? But no—he saw it. There in the middle of his favourite glade lay a bundle of strangely coloured blankets that was, without doubt, moving.

Concern for an innocent life, as well as curiosity overtook his mind. With light steps, he approached the little thing and took a look at it. It looked and sounded like it belonged to the race of Men. No pointed ears in sight. The child's eyes were closed, and his mouth was wide open in a scream of desperation.

'Who could be cruel enough, to leave a toddler alone in Mirkwood, when the spiders are no longer remaining in their former territory? Who would leave this poor, innocent child alone in the wilderness?' Legolas' heart ached at the mere thought of leaving him there on the cold ground with no one to comfort him. Carefully, he took the bundle in his arms and tried to remember everything he had ever heard of handling babies.

There hadn't been children amongst the elves for many decades, so he did not have practical experience. He had to rely on his theoretical knowledge. He should probably give the child to one of the more aged Elves who had the honour of raising an elven child. Yes, that would be the best for himself and the child. However, as he gently rocked the baby in his arms, all his plans faded into nothingness when the small child stopped crying and opened his eyes. They were of a brilliant, emerald green, and just so pure and innocent, Legolas was sure he had never seen anything like this child. And yet, there seemed something odd about the way it looked at him. It was almost as if it had already seen great agony and suffered more than any child at this age should have.

Legolas knew that the moment he saw into this eyes, there was no way he would let himself be separated from this boy. Even if it would mean learning how to change diapers. His eyes fell on the floor and Legolas was startled to see a letter lying there on the damp mossy ground. He shrugged before he reached down with the baby still in his arms. The little boy let out a squeal of joy as soon as Legolas had moved. He obviously liked being up there. A small hand tried to grab his long hair and he barely had time to bring it to safety.

The little child disapproved. It made a face and whimpered something that sounded like: 'Pafoo, Hawy hav hair!' Legolas didn't really understand this baby-language. He wasn't that fluent in the common-tongue either, so there was no point trying to understand the meaning of this.

_"Do not worry, little one. No harm shall come near you."_

He looked around on the glade for a bit, looking for a sign of life nearby, but when he found no signs of anything or anyone who could have possibly left a human toddler here, he shrugged and turned to go back home. Faster than he had arrived– as well as much more careful – Legolas made his way back home.

As it was still too early for breakfast, Legolas knew that his father would be in his study, so without hesitation, he made his way to his father's favourite room. He knocked hurriedly and opened the door without waiting for a proper "come in". Legolas had expected many situations in which he might have found his father, but one thing he hadn't thought of was the presence of Mithrandir. Both of them had huge maps spread out on the table and were looking at him in surprise, as if they were having an important discussion. Legolas gulped and stepped into the room. He couldn't go back now, not that he had already disturbed them.

_"Legolas, what a pleasant surprise!"_

Well, good, the Istar didn't seem to be upset by his sudden appearance.

_"Legolas, join us. What is it that you carry in your arms?"_  

Legolas nearly let out a sigh of relief. His father wasn't upset either. That was good.

_"I found a small child, not much more than a toddler, alone in the forest, with only this envelope next to him. There was no sign of anybody who could have brought him there."_

_"Let me see him."_

Legolas hesitated for a moment and felt the strong urge to never let go of the child – it looked so fragile, as if it could break if you made one wrong move, but then he thought better of it. His father had to have at least some experience – maybe even a little more than some - with babies. He was his father after all. He gave the toddler, who had been playing with his hair, to his father. The Istar looked concerned over Thranduil's shoulder, straight at the Baby.

_"I feel something evil around this child. But when I look in his eyes, he is innocent. How very curious."_

Legolas watched as his father reached out with his hand to put away the corner of the blanket that covered the child's forehead. Both elder men gasped at whatever was revealed to them. Legolas sight was blocked by Mithrandir so he couldn't see what caused their reaction.

_"What is the matter? Is it something bad?"_

Mithrandir looked up, a merry twinkle in his eye. His looked knowingly at Legolas.

_"Looks as if this little boy found somebody who cares about him."_

If Legolas hadn't been an elf, he would have blushed. But elves didn't blush easily, so he merely nodded. His father looked up and held the boy so that Legolas could see what they had been looking at. There was a cut in the form of a lightning bolt on the child's forehead. It felt odd to look at, as if the cut was something evil.

_"You said something about a letter, Legolas?"_

_"Yes, I have it here, father. May I see what is inside too?"_

_"Come here, we will read it together."_

Thranduil broke the green seal, which had with four animals placed around a 'H' on it. He took out a few sheets of thick, yellowish paper and held it so that all three of them could read the words written on it. It was a strange sort of dialect, but it was similar enough to the common tongue to be understood. The handwriting was neat, narrow and curvy.

 

* * *

 

_Dear Petunia,_

_It is in great grief that I now write you this letter. On the night of Halloween, the 31st of October 1981, your sister Lily Potter nee Evans and her husband James Potter lost their lives in their home in Godric's Hollow. This boy is your nephew, Harry James Potter, born on the 31st of July, 1980. Were it not for him, I would not tell you the exact circumstances of their deaths. However, it is very important for you to know that little Harry is in great danger if you do not take him into your family._

_I do not know how deep your dislike of your sister goes, so I don't know if she ever told you about the war in the wizarding world. The Dark Lord Voldemort, a man who has gone beyond the normal evilness has murdered your sister and her husband due to a prophecy which predicted Harry to be the one who will one day defeat him. The Potters went into hiding, but Sirius Black, their secret keeper, betrayed them by revealing their location to Voldemort. As you may know, Sirius once was the best friend of James, so if one day he knocks on your door, make sure he never gets to know Harry's location._

_We can only guess at what had happened, but from the position of James' body, we can tell that he died protecting Lily and Harry. I came to see the catastrophe right away, and could see in Harry's memories that Lily was killed in front of Harry's crib. Voldemort told her to stand aside, but she wouldn't go. When Voldemort killed her, her love formed one of the strongest protections in the universe. The killing curse – which is normally impossible to ward off and is one of the most dangerous and vilest curses – could not get past this shield of pure love and sacrifice Lily created with her death._

_Voldemort vanished when the killing curse rebounded. I can only hope that he is dead. Petunia, if you, as his last blood-relative, take Harry into your house, I will be able to erect wards based on a protection that would protect not only Harry, but also your family. There are still followers of Lord Voldemort, the Death Eaters, out there, who aspire nothing more than Harry's death to avenge their master._

_I beg you, for Lily's sake, to provide him love and care as if he was your own. Someday he will have to face Voldemort, and a loving family who will stand behind him will be the strongest help you can provide. So much depends on him. Make his years away from Hogwarts and the wizarding world as care free as possible. Give him a part of the childhood he deserves. As soon as he comes to Hogwarts, he will have to carry more burdens than most grown-ups do._

_Help him. Help Lily's son. Help her own flesh and blood. She would want it. Being good to Harry would be the best apology you can make for everything that had happened between both of you. Lily will see wherever she is now, and she will forgive you your jealousy that has driven you two apart since the day she got her letter and entered the wizarding world. I beg you, Petunia. For your sister Lily._

_In great grief, Albus Dumbledore_

_P.S.: I have included his birth certificate and a few photos of his parents and their friends. His parents had left with me a letter for him. I put it in the envelope with this letter. Please give it to Harry as soon as he's ready. He will love to have something from them._

 

* * *

 

Glum silence was met at the end of the letter. How was that possible? A female wizard? There haven't been any evil wizards lately and no wizard died recently, as the Istari were practically immortal. There was also no place called Hogwarts where you would enter something called the wizarding world. This letter made – apart from the boy's parents' death – absolutely no sense.

Legolas looked down on the boy in his fathers' arms. His heart ached at the thought of him defeating some mad murderer. He never felt that way to anybody, but somehow he wanted to be the one who provided the child a loving home. Those emerald, fascinating eyes looked up to him and he couldn't help but smile at the sight.

_"So Harry is your name, little one?"_

The toddler squealed in delight and said again something that Legolas couldn't translate.

"Hawy! Pafoo fly! Hawy bwoom!"

Mithrandir smiled at the boy. Apparently he had understood at least something Harry had said.

"You can fly, Harry?"

"Hawy Quiddish! Hawy fly!"

_"Could I take him again, father?"_

Thranduil looked up and met his son's eyes. He gave a short nod and handed the toddler over.

_"You already care greatly for the boy, Legolas."_

_"Yes father, I do."_

_"Well, as he obviously wasn't taken by his aunt, he does need a guardian. Would you watch over him until we find a proper solution?"_

_"Of course father, it would be an honour."_

'Maybe,' Legolas thought, 'it is his magic that makes me like him.' But he dismissed that quickly. It didn't feel like that. These feelings could not be created by any kind of magic, dark or light. Love could not be forged by anyone, not even by the strongest of magic. It had been clear from the beginning that it was not very likely for Legolas to have a child so soon. But now, he had one. He liked the thought of that. Little Harry James Potter was his child. Maybe, someday, he would even be a father to little Harry.

 

* * *

 

**°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°**

 

* * *

 

**Wow, that's it with the prologue. I know it was very sappy, but I promise that future chapters won't be this cheesy anymore :)**

**I hope some people like it, I look forward to a review. If you have something to criticise, something to compliment, or even something to let off steam about, I'd love to hear from you :) I would be really glad to hear any kind of critique from you, as long as you keep it polite. I'll be happy to correct anything I got wrong in my story. I hope my English isn't too horrible to bear. See you next chapter :)**


	2. An extraordinary Birthday - 1

**Hello ^^ I hope you enjoy the chapter.**

 

* * *

 

 

**°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°**

 

* * *

 

Harry was soon very popular amongst the elves. The letter from the mysterious Dumbledore-man lay nearly forgotten and Harry had made his way silently into the hearts of every inhabitant of the wood-elves palace.

He loved playing outside and would always try to climb the highest trees, though most of his attempts failed before he could go higher than seven feet. One of Harry's favourite activities was to help in the kitchen and sometimes even snatch some food. When he was neither in the gardens nor cooking he was very likely to be found in his room. There he would play with his wooden toy-sword or try to read the Sindarin phrases in his books.

He was good at learning languages. Sometimes Harry would still use his twisted dialect of common tongue, but he had learned Sindarin pretty quickly. Faster than you would usually expect such a young child to learn a complex and old language, but nobody thought twice about that. The Elves were merely impressed and called him very intelligent.

Nobody noticed anything odd or suspicious around Harry until he was in Mirkwood for a few years. But even this incident was nothing spectacular. He had been outside at the time, practicing tracking animals with his guardian.

Harry had let out a scream. Legolas had rushed around to see what happened, but it was apparently a squeal of joy about something lying in the boy's hand. Harry's adoptive father had come nearer and saw it. There was a daisy in his hand, and its petals were opening and closing just like the shells of an oyster. Legolas dismissed the event as unimportant, as nothing like that happened anymore.

No one but Mithrandir, Thranduil, and Legolas knew that there was something special about Harry. That was, until the 31st of October after his sixth birthday, exactly one year after the flower-incident.

Harry had gone missing. He wasn't found in his room, the gardens or the kitchens. A wave of panic rushed through the wood-elves' palace – after all, the time they were living in was anything but peaceful. Everyone was looking for the child. He wasn't supposed to leave his room that day as Legolas couldn't watch over him, having gone out to hunt.

Harry was found in the library, flying through the air along with pretty much all the books in the whole place. It took half of the year to sort everything on its right spot again. Mithrandir was contacted shortly after the incident. In his presence Harry was asked once again about how he had done this, but all the elves could get out of him was that he just wished really hard to see all the books at once. The letter was taken much more seriously after the so-called Library incident.

Soon, Harry was told, that he would receive training to control his magic whenever Mithrandir was available. Sadly, thought Harry, this wasn't very often. He was told that Mithrandir was a very important person, and many people needed his help, so Harry didn't get too upset about this. After all, he had more time to play with his Dad when Mithrandir wasn't there.

He loved to spend time with his dad. He would tell him stories, teach him how to read, go outside with him and even show him how to make little slingshots. But every little while he would get a little bit sad, that his father and his Mum weren't there. He had read their Letter so many times, that he knew it by heart, but he couldn't help but look at it every time before he got to bed. It was almost like a ritual.

He would get ready for bed, give his dad a hug and a kiss and then he would lie down and someone would tell him a story. Sometimes his Dad would read, sometimes Maechenebil, the woman he helped in the garden, or the cook, Saelon. Then, he would thank whoever had spoken and when he was alone, he would read the letter in the moonlight, kiss both signatures softly and return the paper into the box hidden under his bed. There were only a few things in this box: the blanket he had worn when he'd turned up in the forest, a photo album with photos of his parents and their friends (it fell out of the envelope with the letters when Harry examined it further at the age of four. He hadn't found out how it had fitted inside the much too small envelope), the little bow his dad had given him on his first birthday in Mirkwood, the first slingshot he and his Dad had made together and – of course – the letter. Nobody but Harry had ever got a look at it.

Currently Harry lay in his comfortable bed in his room that was already flooded with light – a sign that he had been able to sleep longer than usually... Why hadn't his Dad woken him up for breakfast like always?

He opened his eyes and felt around on his nightstand for the healing draught that improved his vision for a day. After he drank the potion (it didn't taste of anything, not even of nothing), he got up, still a little bit sleepy, and went to the basin and jug of water. After he had thoroughly washed his face, he put some clothes on, ready to face and enjoy a new day.

That was the moment his calendar caught his eye. Today was the 31st of July. His seventh day! A huge grin appeared on his face and he went looking for his Dad, even more enthusiastic than before. It was very unlikely for him to be in his rooms, as he normally got up even earlier than Harry, but, decided the birthday-boy, it was a good place to start searching.

They always did this on his birthday. His Dad (and Harry's other friends, along with his presents) would be somewhere in the huge palace and Harry had to find him. Harry loved searching things. It was one of his favourite games to sit in the gardens with somebody and play 'I spy with my little eye'. He often found things not even the elves seemed to notice at first and that – so he was told – was something to be proud of.

He rushed down the corridors, crossed the bridges over the many ravines and peered outside into the gardens. Then, in an ordinary looking passage, he found himself drawn to an inconspicuous looking door as if by magic.

He heard somebody whispering behind it. Slowly he pulled on the heavy, silver door handle, only to see a very slim passageway that led down, down, down, in small spirals. The floor was slippery and the walls (not like those beautiful walls in the rest of the Halls!) were made of rough, natural rock. Harry had never seen this place, but it was mysterious. And this was the point when the Potter-Gene kicked in. He wanted so desperately to see what was down there. Well, until…

"Ssstupidsss, elvssss. Locked meessss down heress!"

A voice. A voice with a funny accent. It said 's' in words where no 's' was. And it said nasty things about his friends.

"Hey! The elves aren't stupid! They are very kind!"

"Getss out of meessss waysss, ssstupidsss humanssss."

"I could, if I know where you are! Are you invisible?"

"No! Me'ssss down by yoursss feetsss!"

Harry looked down, and saw – his heart stopped for a moment - a snake. It was about two and a half feet long, with a thin black body that was occasionally striped with the same yellow that coloured its head. Harry jumped away from it.

"You're a snake!"

"Of coursssse! But notsss any snakesss!"

"So… you're a special kind of snake?"

"Of courssse, ssstupid!"

"Uhm… what's so special about you, then?"

The snake looked taken aback. It obviously wasn't used to this kind of questions. Well, thought Harry, maybe it isn't used to talking to humans. He was, after all, not used to talking to snakes either. They seemed to be very proud animals.

"Whatsss so ssspecccial about meesssss? Everythingssss!"

"Uhm. Okay. Could you be more precise? I still don't know your specialness."

It made a hissing noise that could be compared to a human groaning angrily.

"Stupidsss humansss! Me'sss an Azemiops feae, onesss of the mossst dangerousss snakessss outssside theresss!"

"If you say so. I usually shouldn't play with dangerous things, but you haven't tried to attack me yet, so I think I'll stay here for a while. I've never talked to a snake, you know. I didn't know you could talk at all."

"Of courssse weessss cansss talkss! No stupisss humansss ever underssstandsssss!"

"So, every snake can talk, but you have, uhm, kind of your own language?"

"Stupidsss humansss goodsss thinkingsss! But ssstill not explainedsss why itssss speaksss parseltoungesss."

"Parseltounge?"

"Oursss language, stupidsss!"

"Oh. Uhm, I dunno."

"Stupidsss!"

Harry decided to claim that he didn't hear all those insults. The snake obviously had bad experiences with humans. The boy had long forgotten that he should be looking for his dad and his friends.

"By the way, I'm Harry. Do you have a name?"

"Of courssse meesss havesss a name!"

"Could you tell me, please?"

"Whyss didn'tsss stupidsss humansss asssked beforess? Meesss name isss Lugonsss."

"Lugons? So, you're a guy."

"Me'ssss certainlysss no femalesss!"

"Okay, okay. I have no practice in telling a snake's gender."

How could he have known? He hadn't even _seen_ any snakes outside his books. The elves didn't like snakes at all. Well, at least snakes didn't seem to like elves, too, Harry thought.

"Do you live here?"

"No, stupidsss, meesss wasss locked in heresss by sssilly elvessss, ignoringsss meesss!"

"I'm sure it was an accident."

"Yessss, yesss, stupidssss, alwayssss everythingssss accidentsss! Tzzzzz, never!"

"Okay, Okay. No need to get snappy."

"Meessss been downsss heresss for long timessss! Me'ssss hungry! Stupidssss would bessss snappy, too, when haventssss eatenssss long enoughssss!"

"Do you need help?"

"Meessss?"

"No, the other black-yellow striped snake I'm talking to! Of course you."

"Meessss mighty snakessss! Meesss needsss no helpsss!"

"So… if you don't need any help, I'm just gonna leave and you stay down in this passageway. You don't need help to get out of here, after all."

Harry couldn't stand it anymore. He hated it when he got insulted without reason. (Okay, that, and he really needed to practice being sassy. Mithrandir sometimes used sarcasm. And his dad, too, he needed to stand up to them and practice.)

"No!"

"So you need help?"

"Yesss… stupidsss situationsss!"

Well, at least now the snake blamed everything on the situation, not on Harry and the elves.

"Why didn't you say so? Come on."

Together they made their way up the small, dimly lit corridor Harry had walked down, only to discover that the door was shut. Now, that wasn't good at all. Harry tried opening it, but somebody had locked it. Funny, he didn't hear anyone who had closed it. Harry had to use all his self-control in order not to swear (he'd learned a few wonderful swearwords when a few dwarfs from the lonely mountain visited last year). He always got into trouble. Every single time. He should've expected it. He tried harder to open the door. Finally he gave it up and restricted on calling out for help.

After a few minutes yelling that seemed like a whole lifetime, he became frustrated. No matter how loud he yelled for help, the only thing he would get as an answer was an angry hiss from Lugnos. Foul thing.

Desperately he kicked the door with as much force as he could manage, and it caused nothing but a hurting toe. Harry jumped a few times on one foot until the ache lessened and sat down with a defeated sigh (It still had an angry undertone to it.). Then it hit him.

He could do magic.

Okay, maybe it had been accidentally two times and the other times were with Mithrandir and there was that once with the funny stone from the dwarfs that absorbed every bit of magic and made it stronger, but it was magic all the same!

He stood up slowly and faced the door handle. He reached out with his hands and touched the silver lightly, willing himself to memorize all of its features. It was cool on his skin, smooth and if he would carry it in his hands, it would surely be heavy.

As Harry concentrated on the silver, he felt a strange tickling sensation running down his spine and bubbling inside his core, but instinctively he knew he couldn't release it just yet. The elves had taught him to recognise his instincts instead of disregarding them as Men tended to do. So now he knew he had to wait. He imagined further. How an elven smith had created it. The heat of the flames, rushing over his face, the sound of a hammer on semi molten metal. He felt the tickling leave his core and seep into his arms, warming up his fingertips and finally getting out of his body. His concentration didn't lessen a second.

He imagined even further. How the heat would go through the smiths' protective gear, creep under the elf's skin. His fingers warmed noticeably. He imagined the silver glowing red and yellow in the core of the flames, how it would blister and slowly melt. He felt something hot and sticky on his fingers, but his eyes still closed in concentration, he couldn't tell what caused it. Something of the silver would fall into the flames, when the smith wasn't cautious enough. The glow in front of his closed eyelids grew brighter and then darkened abruptly. Harry felt the door giving in and heard Lugnos' approving hiss.

He opened his eyes and gasped. He had melted the whole locking mechanism. His hands were still in the sticky, silver mass. He let out a scream. It hurt! It hurt so much. He hadn't noticed before, but his hands were burned all over. Sweat had formed small drops on Harry's forehead that was now feverish warm. Harry shivered. He felt so exhausted. All he wanted to do was sleep, he wanted the pain to stop, he wanted his Dad to hold him and he wanted to read the soothing words in the letter of his parents. At least he had managed to set Lugnos free, Harry thought, before everything went black and unconsciousness took him.

 

* * *

 

**°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°**

 

* * *

 

Lugnos had always avoided those walking on two legs. If you may call them Dwarfs, Elves, Men or Istari, didn't affect him at all. They all smelled weird, made too much noise (he _hated_ when those elves sang. Stupid guys. Everyone could hear it. It made them such an easy target!) And they all pretty much ignored or killed all the snakes that would (usually accidentally) cross their paths. Those… _beings_ referred to all snakes as evil and bad. Lugnos really hated them.

But this one, this small one was different. First, he spoke parseltongue. Second, he had asked for Lugnos' name (Nobody had done that _ever_. Not even fellow serpents!), and third, he had helped him in a hopeless situation. Lugnos was impressed. This wasn't usual two-leg behaviour. And now, Harry lay on the ground, clearly in need for healing, with the terrible smell of burned human flesh in the air. His savour needed to be saved, that much was as clear as Orcs were disgusting.

Lugnos never had to be brave in his life. In his opinion, being brave was just another word for 'foolish', but now, he needed all his foolishness and bravery together. He somehow had to alert other elves of his saviour's condition. He sensed many of the elves running around not far away, so he made his way as quickly as possible in that direction. There! The first elf he ran into wasn't even an elf but a Man. His hair looked rather unkempt and his eyes were grey, full of worry and seemed to suck in every detail of his surroundings. It took the man only a split of a second to spot Lugnos. At first the man did nothing but stare at Lugnos like his latest meal had (a wonderful fat brown mouse, but that was beside the point).

Lugnos mentally rolled his eyes. Did he have to do everything on his own? He showed his highly poisonous teeth and tried to look as aggressive as possible. 'Now, Now,' thought the snake, 'congrats, you finally got the hint', as the man took out his sword. Lugnos quickly dived away under the blade and slithered away, back to Harry. As predicted, the man took after him. Who would, after all, let a poisonous snake freely slither around in some elven palace? The way seemed twice as long now that he had some warrior, desperate to slice him in two, chasing after him, but Lugnos eventually made it to the last corner before his finish line.

He heard the Man behind him sniffing and choking. Well, it seemed that humans didn't like the smell of burning flesh either. Lugnos made the sort of hissing that would be a relieved sigh in a human mouth.

As they both finally arrived in the corridor, Lugnos happily heard a yell behind him. He had managed it! He had saved his saviour. Now, there was no need to stay. His life-debt was paid. While the human rushed towards Harry, Lugnos silently slithered away, towards the next window. He didn't once look back.

 

* * *

 

**°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°**

 

* * *

 

Harry groaned. His hands were hurting. Not as bad as it had been, as he remembered, but it was still bad. At least, he wasn't exhausted anymore. Rather, he felt like he would be able to run through Mirkwood without a break. But before he could do that, he had to open his eyes. Much too bright light was the first thing he saw, and he quickly closed his eyelids. He groaned again. His head hurt now. Slowly, as if somebody would put away some sort of sound-stopper from his ears, he heard voices, talking in hushed tones.

"… _think he wakes up?"_

" _Definitely. Though I cannot predict if there may be any long lasting effects."_

" _You think there will be some, father? What kind of effects?"_

" _He may have a trauma from this whole experience. When he decides to fear his magic for what it has done, it is possible he decides to never use it again. But if he bottles it up and never releases it, there are going to be magical outbursts, surely dangerous for us and for him. Magic is like a wild animal in any means, no matter how different his magic is compared to Mithrandir's or our own. If you put a wild animal into a cage, it will become aggressive and constantly try to get itself freed."_

" _Now, Now, let's not think of the worst worst-case scenario we can possibly think of."_

" _Yes. Harry is a very brave young man. The more years I spend with him, the more character he develops, the more bravery and selflessness I can see."_

" _You are lucky to have such an extraordinary foster son, Legolas."_

" _I'm sure you were and still are considered the same way, Estel."_

Harry recognised two of them. His dad and his granddad (he didn't like it to call him King Thranduil, though all of the other elves had tried to make him. The King would always laugh at those attempts). He couldn't figure out, who the third one was. He didn't sound any elfish. Besides, Harry could sense four people in the room and wondered why Mithrandir didn't speak. He could clearly feel the power, the tingling in the air that always accompanied the Istar.

If he could only _look_! He'd be willing to open his eyes, but the light had caused him a headache once, he didn't look forward to another time. He decided to simply ask for help. That was always good. And as Mithrandir would have the fastest methods to make everything darker, Harry would address him. He would also get to see some of his magic tricks, and he really loved that.

" _Please, Mithrandir, could you dim the light? I can't open my eyes."_

Harry heard him chuckle, two of the others (The unknown and his Dad) sigh in relief and he could almost hear his Granddad frown. Maybe because he wasn't supposed to be in the dark. Finally the light shining through his eyelids lessened. With a relieved sigh, he opened his eyes carefully. He didn't want another headache, after all.

" _Uhm … Hello Everyone."_

A second later, he found himself involved in a gentle but firm hug by his Dad. He leaned into the contact and didn't let go for a long time. When they finally released each other, he got a proper look on them all. His Dad looked really worn out, as if he hadn't slept but been upset a too long time. Gandalf looked, as always, rather unpredictable, but somehow a little amused, while his Granddad frowned for no obvious reason at all. The stranger looked nothing but relieved and friendly.

" _May I have some water? My mouth is all dry."_

" _Of course, little one, I've got some here."_

Harry took the glass of water his Granddad offered him and shifted a little uncomfortably. All four of them were staring at him. He hated being stared at. He pretended not to notice and looked around. Stunned, he recognised the infirmary.

" _Why am I not in my room, I'm not supposed to be …"_

Then, a flood of memories overran his brain. The silver door handle, the pain in his hands, the exhaustion … Somebody must've found him.

" _Oh… How long have I been here?"_

" _You have rested here for eight Days now."_

" _More than a week?!"_

" _Yes, little one, but do not worry, your body is healed now."_

Slowly, realization kicked in. Harry hadn't found them on his birthday! They must've been extremely worried about him! He hated worrying.

" _I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do whatever I did."_

" _Don't be. But if I were in your position, I would thank Estel, as he was the one to find you. He would have been a birthday surprise. We figured that since you never talked to anyone besides elves and Istari, you would like to talk to somebody … human."_

" _Uhm, Thanks, Estel."_

The Man smiled softly.

" _You're quite welcome. But I don't think I would have found you, if it wasn't for that snake. It attacked me and when I tried to catch it, I ran right into you."_

Harry looked up excitedly. A snake … that could only mean …

" _You've met Lugnos?"_

" _Lugnos?"_

" _Was the snake huge and black with a yellow head and some yellow stripes?"_

" _How'd you know?"_

" _That was Lugnos, I heard him talk behind a door and wanted to look who was there. Then I discovered some corridor that didn't look like the rest of the castle. Lugnos was on the floor and said he couldn't get out. I said I would help him, but then the door was locked and I yelled but no one heard. Then I tried magic, and it worked! I think, Lugnos attracted your attention on purpose."_

" _Did you just say the snake talked to you?"_

" _Yeah, well, it had a rather inappropriate sort of language though."_

The adults shared a look. Harry frowned. It was the we-need-to-have-a-serious-discussion-about-something-Look. What could have upset them? He looked up.

" _Don't worry, I won't copy Lugnos' way of talking. I don't like it when somebody insults my family."_

The grown-ups smiled softly at him.

 

* * *

 

**°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°**

 

* * *

 

To say that Legolas was upset was a bit of an understatement. Judging by the look that Thranduil and Mithrandir had shared, they didn't know what to think either. After all, talking to snakes was something that was deeply connected to dark magic. Well, as far as magic could be dark. It was more connected to evil people who could do magic, like the witch-king, for one. It was said, that he could speak in snake tongues.

He couldn't think of what that would mean to for his Harry. If he knew one person, that would certainly never ever go dark, it was Harry (and maybe Estel, but that was beside the point here). The problem was that although _he_ knew that, others wouldn't. People would fear him and fear led to prejudice. He nearly groaned. No, he certainly didn't want Harry to be met with hate and wariness.

At the moment, Harry didn't seem aware of what he had just revealed. Well, he couldn't have known. There were (usually) no serpents in the elves' palace. Harry looked up, his vibrant green eyes suddenly full of this innocent excitement only children could feel.

" _Hey! I've had birthday, before I passed out! Can I open my presents? Please, Dad, pleeeeeaaaaase!"_

His son looked up at him with wide puppy-eyes. Legolas laughed. He always got that look when Harry wanted something very much and yet had no intention of doing anything for it. He would let him, as birthday presents were really nothing you had to work for.

" _Of course, little one. After all, you only turn seven once."_

Harry nodded with all the solemnity a seven-year old boy sitting on his bed in pyjamas could have.

" _Yes. Because, next year, I will turn eight. Can you believe that? Dad, I wish I was already eight. I would be so much bigger and grown up."_

Legolas chuckled lightly and retrieved his son's still wrapped presents from a corner of the room, where they had been lying ever since he was moved into the infirmary. Harry wasn't allowed to stand up just yet. He had one big presents and a few smaller ones. Legolas loved to see the enthusiastic look on Harry's face and the joy in his eyes as he discovered a new pair of boots, a Ball (his last one fell into the river), and lovely wooden figures of a doe and a stag which was apparently his favourite.

Then Harry's eyes fell on the heaviest, largest package. He picked it up and ripped it open. Legolas watched as Harry's eyes grew wide.

" _Dad, if this is what I think it might be, you're the best Dad in Middle-earth and Aman together!"_

Legolas smile grew wider as he heard Harry squeal in delight. Yep. He was the best Dad in Arda. But he wasn't going to show Harry his satisfaction about that. He had to act like a serious, responsible adult (Well, he tried to.). His foster son looked up with eyes as wide as silver-coins.

" _Does that mean that I'm finally going to be trained?"_

He held up the small training-sword, maybe imagining how it would be to fight with it.

" _Yes, Harry, that's another reason why Estel is here. He shall be your trainer. Handle it with responsibility and use it only when an adult is around. You're a big boy now, but big boys need to be cautious."_

Harry looked thrilled. He began firing off questions at Estel. Legolas nearly banged his forehead against the table, when Harry kept asking 'when are we going to kill Orcs?' But he had to be a responsible adult, and elves didn't do such things either. Poor Legolas. Harry had the ability to find, pick and hide the books that weren't particularly for little children. 'Battles of History', 'how to slay the darkest beasts' and 'famous orc-attacks in the second age' may be useful for research, but they were not something you could call enjoyable.

But Harry had this special feature. The I-always-get-into-trouble-without-searching-for-it-trait. Just like on his birthday, just a week ago.

A quiet yawn snapped him out of his thoughts. Harry looked tired again.

" _Rest now, little one, or do you wish to be sleepy for your first lesson?"_

" _But Grandpa, I'm not tire-"_

He was interrupted by another yawn. Harry looked angry with himself after that.

" _If you say so. Good night."_

" _Sweet dreams, little one."_

Legolas got up and hugged his son, felt the light kiss on his cheek and smiled. The other three men ruffled his messy black hair and said their good nights. They were about to get out of the room, when a shy whisper came from behind.

" _Will you still read me a story? Even if I'm a big boy now?"_

" _Of course, Harry. Do you want me to read?"_

" _Could you ask Maechenebil, please? I haven't seen her in ages."_

" _Sure, Harry, I'll make sure to ask her."_

Legolas smiled one last time at his foster son, before he closed the door and turned to face the worried faces of his dad, Mithrandir and Estel.

A few minutes later, Legolas found himself in his Father's study again. Estel was with them. He would be Harry's sword trainer, so he had a right to know about any unpleasantness that may come up. They all had agreed that a man should teach a man how to fight. It had been like that with Estel, and so it should be with Harry. Later on, when he became proficient, perhaps at eighteen or nineteen, he would be taught the elven ways of sword-fighting.

But that wasn't the point now. Mithrandir and Thranduil looked extremely concerned. Well, he couldn't blame them. He probably had the same look on his face.

"…sooo. He talks snake-language."

"Yes."

"That will not make him evil, will it?"

"I do not think so."

"Me neither. Harry has a strong will, just as I said."

"How does this… ability come to him? Does one of you have a theory?"

"It may come from his scar. That thing is tainted with evil and it may come from there."

"I still wonder how he got it."

"Or what it is. We should probably do some research about magic."

"That shall be a task for you, Mithrandir."

"If you say so, Strider."

"I doubt you shall find something in this world about it. It seems most likely to be something he got where he came from."

Legolas sighed. Now, this might take a while. Thankfully he had told Maechenebil about Harry's wish before they had come here. At least Harry could get some rest.

* * *

 

**°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°**

 

* * *

 

After the story was told (it had been about a funny man called Iarwain Ben-adar or Tom Bombadil amongst the men) and Maechenebil had said good night, Harry jumped out of his bed. In a quick movement, he pulled his box from under his bed. The letter from his parents lay on top, neatly folded inside the envelope.

His eyes found the familiar, curvy and orderly writing of his mother and his father's edgy scribble.

 

* * *

 

**_My dear Harry,_ **

**_I don't know what is worse: that you read these words now, or that I have to write such a letter._ **

**_I'm sure you know why this is in need. If you ever get to read this, we will be dead and you most likely never got the chance to get to know us._ **

**_I hope you had (or still have) a happy, carefree childhood. We went into hiding on Professor Dumbledore's advice, so we still have hope._ **

**Yes, hope is the only light we have in these dark times. Hope and friends.**

**At the moment, the only one who can reveal the location of our house is Peter, a good friend of mine.** **We wanted to take Sirius, your Godfather, at first, but he said it would be too obvious.**

**I am ashamed by this, but both of us think, that our other friend, Remus, is the one who gives information to the enemy.** **I hope this isn't the case, and I feel truly ashamed at the idea of mistrusting my friends, but dark times lead to careful decisions.**

**_Just to mention it: I don't think it is Remus. Just because he spies for our side doesn't mean he also spies for the other side!_ **

**I also doubt that it is him, but somebody is out there, trading information.**

**_Now, let's stop talking about that. We want you to know that we love you from the very depth of our hearts._ **

**_I would give my life every time in order to save yours. All I want is your safety and happiness._ **

**_We're looking everywhere for a possibility to destroy Voldemort._ **

**_In the Departments of Mysteries, where I was working as an Unspeakable before I got pregnant, there are a few interesting books._ **

**_Your father and I have figured out that Voldemort might have created Horcruxes to stay immortal. He had been making comments about the need of more than the usual methods for humans, to kill him._ **

**_We're still trying to find out what he could have used. Your father and I haven't told anybody of it, not even Professor Dumbledore._ **

**I hope you will never need this information, but we didn't want it to be lost forever in case we died.**

**Now, back to the funny, emotional stuff, I can't stand all this talking about foul methods of cheating death.**

**I want you to play Quidditch and pranks, date as many girls as possible, and finally end up with a fiery tempered redhead. It worked out fine for me!**

**_Harry James Potter, if you do that, I'll kick your ass as soon as we meet again. You wouldn't dare scare off your future wife by playing as a Casanova._ **

**_But we'd like you to know that no matter what house you'll be sorted in, when you're at Hogwarts and what you do, we will always be proud of you._ **

**Just try not to get into Slytherin, or to be too friendly with them.**

**_James!_ **

**Ouch! Tell your Mother not to hit me on the head. But anyway, I was just joking.**

**We'll love you and whoever you'll make friends with. I am best friends with a** **_Black_ ** **, after all, so I can't let prejudice rule my thoughts.**

**_Yes, just as James said. Also make sure to go your own way, don't let others get you down, but be able to handle constructive criticism._** **_Don't be an arrogant git like your father was in his first six years of school._**

**Hey!**

**_Harry, another note: do not tickle your wife. Never._ **

**Do it Harry, it's fun!**

**_Listen to your mother and don't. So, we are trying to tell you to live life your way. You are unique, so don't let the world change you and most importantly not your good characteristics._ **

**We love you endlessly much, I hope you'll never read this,**

**_Lily & _ ** **James Potter**

 

* * *

 

Harry smiled as he kissed each signature softly and put the letter, with the envelope, back into the box under his bed. Then he lay down on his bed with a smile. He fell asleep instantly.

 

* * *

 

**°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°**

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> Thanks for the three kudos ;) I'd love to get a comment ;)
> 
> So, I'll probably get out another chapter tomorrow ^^ Until then, goodbye :)


	3. Esgaroth - 2

 

* * *

 

**°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°**

 

* * *

Harry loved his life. He was sitting at the forest river in his travel-coat, enjoying Today's break from the sword lessons. His tutor, Estel wasn't always here, but when he was, the training was intense. Only yesterday, he had nursed a scratch on his cheek and a bruise on his left ankle. Not to be mistaken, he loved the sword lessons and he had a fair and competent teacher, but it was also very exhausting. He would not want to give this up for any gold the world could give him.

He heard once again the familiar hissing noise of Lugnos' impolite language, but didn't greet the snake. He came slithering around from time to time. He never stopped to talk to Harry directly, though. His family – the elves – had been very concerned about his ability to speak parseltongue at first. It wasn't very common to speak this Language and recently there have only been Beings with great evil in their hearts to be able to do so. He could understand their concern. It was only natural to rely on experience. But Mithrandir went to some Libraries and looked up the topic in a really old book. Harry had no idea, why it had taken him one and a half year to find a single book. Maybe not all the libraries were as orderly as the one in woodland realm. He knew the exact places of every single book here. That was ever since he could remember and he liked that. His dad never figured out, how he found the books he wasn't supposed to find. Anyway, Mithrandir had found out that Parseltongue did not automatically bring evilness with it. At the Beginning of the first age, it had even been a highly appreciated gift. Sauron, the witch king and a few others had apparently ruined its reputation. Harry was now ten years old (seriously, he was almost grown up! Only two foot and he would be as tall as his Dad!) and he loved his life. The summer was beautiful, the winters were nice too, spring was always refreshing and autumn was always stunningly magnificent. But Harry knew something was missing. He knew, whenever he performed magic - which was often, as it was one of his favourite things to do - he felt there was supposed to be something more. As if using arrows without the tips, or a rod in a sword fight. He constantly tried to find something that would fill that gap, but it never worked. Only the stone from the dwarfs with the power to increase every magical Energy managed to relieve this feeling a little. But Harry didn't want to feel incomplete. He was doing research whenever possible. He didn't dare to ask somebody. It would worry everyone. He hated it when people worried about him. He always felt guilty at that.

But today, he would worry no one. Estel would be here for at least two weeks and he would accompany his Dad and him to Esgaroth. Harry was excited. Maybe more excited than ever in his life. This was the first time when he would ever see something different than the forest and the palace. He would not mess this up. He could see Estel and his Dad walking towards him and he prepared himself for another lecture.

" _Harry!"_

" _Can we go now?"_

At his Dad's raised eyebrow, he hastily added _"Please?"_

He didn't want to mess it up even before they headed off. He'd been stuck in Mirkwood forest for too long and knew every passageway in the palace by heart. Even the ones he wasn't supposed to know.

" _Soon. I just want you to remember a few things."_

" _You have my full attention."_

They had gone through this conversation at least ten times the last three days. He knew every single word his father would say.

" _Good. Always stay in sight. It can be a right chaos in the village. Try not to get lost, yes?"_

Harry somehow couldn't help but expect to get lost.

" _Of course Dad."_

" _Try not to get yourself abducted or captured of any sort."_

Why did he suddenly think, that it was very likely to be kidnapped?

" _Sure Dad."_

" _Try not to steal anything or get yourself accused for stealing things."_

Why did he have the distinct feeling that just this would happen today?

" _I will be careful, Dad"_

" _Try not to go talk to strangers, especially not armed strangers and dwarfs."_

Harry already saw himself bumping into foreign, armed dwarfs.

" _Never Dad."_

" _Try not to go anywhere where you can sense goblins. Even if the traces are many years old."_

He already had a bad Feeling about this.

" _I wouldn't dare."_

" _Just try not to get into any kind of Trouble, Yes?"_

Harry barely managed to hold back a snort. As if _that_ would ever happen.

" _Certainly, Dad."_

He hadn't promised anything. Only to try. If anything happened, he could say he _tried_. Trying was always a good think. Particularly if you were Harry Potter and trouble would always follow you around like a shadow or a small puppy. Harry had always liked puppies. Much more than mice or rats. Or shadows. He also liked cats. Especially tabby cats. Why, he didn't know. He also didn't know, why he'd always wanted a furry, black Dog. But he'd never asked anyone for a pet. It was nothing essential but would rather consume his time. At the other hand, it would be nice to have company besides the elves. He knew, they were family, but the all were such adults. Maybe not as serious as the human adults he'd met, but still adults. It could be a little boring with everyone around you being many centuries older than you.

His Dad held out a hand and helped Harry sitting up. The next Harry knew, was that they were walking through the forest. He'd thought, that with all the training he'd received he would easily be able to walk as fast as the two adults, but they were walking in such a pace that he had a hard time keeping up. Estel was leading the small group of three people while Harry marched on behind him with his Dad on his heels. After maybe a - what seemed like an eternity –half an hour, Harry was finally able to hear water. They had reached the docks. Why they had to go to the farthest mooring was a mystery to Harry – Estel probably wanted to make up for the missed days of training.

Relieved to have a bit of a break he sat down on the boat. The two adults would handle everything here.

* * *

 

**°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°**

 

* * *

The next few hours were rather boring and Harry found himself longing for a good walk. They didn't bother stopping for lunch or dinner. They had brought some bread and cheese and ate that while navigating the boat down the river.

It was already getting dark as their boat finally reached the long lake. The lights of Esgaroth shone bright and reflected on the water. It was a truly magnificent sight, even for someone, who had grown up with elves. The lights of the city mixed with the light of the first visible stars.

" _Look Dad, Estel the water! It looks as if we were sailing in the sky!"_

Amazed, Harry let a Hand glide through the water, as if to catch the small light dots. A Hand on his shoulder made him look up. Estel had a small smile on his face and spoke in common speech (Harry feared to forget everything when he wouldn't use the language regularly).

"Try not to get too near to the water. You aren't the most… well, capable swimmer, remember?"

Harry flushed a bit. There had been a few attempts to teach him how to swim and they all failed spectacularly. Harry didn't like the water. Well he didn't have anything against it, he just didn't like _himself_ being _inside_ the water. Gandalf had said that this got something to do with the fact that his magical core was of the Element Fire and Air. Both weren't compatible with water.

"Yes Estel, I will be careful."

"Good. We don't want a soaked Harry walk around in the City, do we?"

"Don't worry. I'm careful. Really!"

Estel nodded, flashing him another smile.

"Are you excited?"

"Oh, Yes! I want to see **everything**! Really, I have read so much about Esgarot. Finally seeing it in reality is so exciting! But after all this time in Mirkwood, the City is not the only thing I want to see. I want to climb the lonely mountain, I want to see Mellyrn, Imlardis, the horses of Rohan, the eagles, visit isengards library and talk to Onodrim – err, Ents."

A thought crossed his mind and he added quickly:

"And I want to see a hobbit. I heard they were good at hiding themselves."

"Hmm, Little one. You would have to travel long distances in order to see any of these."

"I know and I don't care. I rather appreciate that fact. I want to see something – no, everything that isn't like Mirkwood. I know it is home and I will always return there but I want to see the world."

"I'm sure you can do that. But not too soon. You're only ten years old. You have a lifetime full of adventures in front of you. For now, Mirkwood forest, your training and studies are enough adventures."

Harry made a face at that. Patience was certainly nothing he was good at.

"But-"

"Nothing 'but'. If you'd meet orcs on your way, you surely would want to be able to beat them, wouldn't you?"

"Yes! Of course."

"I see. If you met a single orc today, you would get away with your life. You would still need a bit of luck though. Orcs still possess greater strength than you. But tell me, what is the first thing you learnt in your lessons about orc?"

Harry looked deflated.

"If you meet one lonely orc, make sure to look back and watch the other nine that are hiding behind."

"Quite right, Harry. Orcs usually hang together in groups of…?"

"Ten."

"Except for…?"

"The times that a greater force calls for them to create an army and inside their city."

"Very well Harry. Trust me, many of the most capable warriors would find it draining to fight ten orcs at once. You wouldn't stand a chance right now. I'm sorry."

Harry sighed and pushed the images of himself drowning in a flood of orcs aside.

"It's okay. I know that I need much more training to fight orcs. It's not as if nobody ever told me that. If I remember correctly, I asked about thirty times when we would go slay orcs on my seventh birthday. But I'm not that small anymore. I'm nearly as tall as dad!"

Estel raised a single eyebrow. Harry continued a little grumpy, but with a smile.

"Okay, I get it. I still need about two foot to be as tall as him."

"Right Indeed, little one. Before we enter the village: put on your hood now. We don't want anyone see your Pointy ears now, do we?"

Harry smiled and pulled the hood over his head. He could remember the day he got elven ears as clearly as if it had been only yesterday.

* * *

 

**°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°**

 

* * *

***Flashback***

_"Harry? Harry, where are you?"_

His Dad's voice carried through the corridor he had hidden himself inside. But Harry had no intention of revealing his position. He was angry. At the world and at himself.

Why did he have to be so different? He knew that the elves weren't his blood family. He had figured out that long before he'd even been given his parents' letter. The elves were nevertheless his family in every other way. But that didn't make differences between them less.

Harry tried to be like them. Really. He wanted to fit in. But it seemed that the harder he tried, the more differences became clear. The elves were everything he was not. Their movements always graceful, their way of talking constantly gallant, their care permanently gentle and their way of acting continuously selfless.

Harry himself was – as far as he knew – nothing of these. He would never be able to walk and move the way the elves could. As if they were walking on clouds, or as if they were floating one or two inch over the ground. Harry was often a bit clumsy. Something his family never ever, ever was.

Harry knew he should be talking jut as the elves were – they did after all teach him how to speak – but he had heard too many other kinds of talking. After the dwarfs' rude language, the rash way those warriors from Rohan talked and also Lugnos' impolite tongue it was nearly impossible for Harry to keep his way of talking fine and polite. If it hadnt been for the elves, Harry would have never seen all these strangers, but it was hard to keep a Potter, who knows everything about a place, from eavesdropping.

Everything that was given to the care of the elves, seemed to develop the best way possible. The last time Harry had tried to grow a plant, it died after only a single week. He definitely had no talent with plants. Mithrandir had told him, that it was connected to the fact that his magical core wasn't connected to the element earth. Harry had no idea what that meant. In the library were no books about connections between elements and magical cores.

And last but not least, he couldn't help but notice, that he was being selfish from time to time. For example at meals. He'd never get the idea of letting another person eat the last currant bread, when he could eat it himself.

Now, as he lay here in the dark corner, hidden from his dad's gaze, all this depressing thoughts came crashing down on him. He held back a sob as it would surely reveal his position.

By the Valar, he wished so much that he would at least be a little bit like his family. He would give everything to be like them. He felt the warm tickling sensation of his magic running up and down his spine. Through closed eyes, he could see a small glow that heated his ears little. Not so much that it made him uncomfortable but enough to warm him up.

_"Here you are, Harry."_

Had the light been sufficient to show his dad where he had been hiding? Apparently. Harry heard a small gasp, still not opening his eyes. If he did, the tears he'd been holding back would fall for sure.

_"Harry, what have you- how did you manage to… wow Harry, now you are not only like an elf, you also look like an elf."_

_"What?"_

Harry's eyes shot open.

_"Do you not feel it? Somehow you managed to change your appearance."_

_"Really? Where?"_

His Dad reached out and gently touched his ear. Harrys hand followed. But his ear felt different. Somehow… pointed. His jaw dropped open and with his other hand he touched his Dad's ear. The felt so similar. Somehow Harry's magic had managed to get him Elven-Ears. Harry already loved them.

Suddenly a frown appeared on his Dad's forehead.

_"Harry?"_

_"Yes, Dad?"_

_"Whenever someone visits or we go outside, you have to hide these."_

_"But why? I want to be like you and the others, Dad. Why can't I?"_

His Dad laid his hands on Harry's shoulders. And looked him straight and earnestly in the eye.

_"Harry. You will always be one of us. No matter what you look like or what you do. We are Family and Family stands together, remember? And you are a lot like us. You remind me very much of Elven children. Just because you are not exactly like me or someone else does not meant that you are not like any of us. You have your own wonderful qualities. Some of your abilities are not as good as elven abilities, yes, but some of your abilities are much better than any of the elves'."_

_"Thanks Dad. But… I want to keep the ears. I don't even know how to remove them."_

_"I never said you shall remove them. Just hide them around strangers. Many evil people would be delighted to abduct an elven child. And with these ears you look just like one. You would be in great danger if some Beings became aware of you."_

_"Oh."_

Harry stayed quiet for a while keeping is eyes on the floor. He felt his Dad's gaze on him. Then his head shot up again, looking up with huge vibrant green eyes.

_"Those beings are not orcs, are they?"_

Legolas remained silent for a few seconds.

_"No. Sadly not."_

_"Is it true what Mithrandir said last week? That this corrupt, tainted Maia is rising again? That a nameless evil is searching for the one Ring?"_

His Dad shook his head faintly.

_"I do not want to know how you know about the ring, but I taught you better than to eavesdrop. "_

_"Is it true?"_

A heavy sigh left his father's mouth.

_"Yes, it is true. But Harry, you are too young to be concerned about something like this."_

Harry scowled.

_"It surely does concern me! If the shadow needs a few years to gain power, then I will be an adult when it rises. It will be men of my age to fight the upcoming battles! I will be in the middle of this war. I already know that, it doesn't matter if I am only nine. I know why I am trained to fight. I know you try to keep me out of this to give me a childhood. But I also know, that I can't hide from this. I know that what happened before, can happen again every day. I know everything about history. I've read all the books I could find about the topic in the library. It's no use keeping information from me. I will be involved anyway."_

His Dad's eyes looked moist as Harry was pulled into a firm hug. His Dad didn't let go for a long time. Finally he spoke.

_"I know, Harry. I know I cannot keep this from you. But I also know, that you are a child at the moment. You deserve to worry about things like the dessert next dinner or what game to play next. I wish so much you would have been brought here in a more peaceful time. But please Harry, leave this topic for another few years. I promise, once you are sixteen, I will share everything we have with you. I promise it."_

_"Really?"_

_"Of course. Have I ever lied to you?"_

Harry shook his head quietly and flashed his dad a small, honest smile.

_"Thank you."_

_"You're quite welcome. Now, shall we go and get a few hoods sewed to your robes?"_

***Flashback end***

* * *

 

**°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°**

 

* * *

Harry's Thoughts were interrupted as the boat bumped gently against a landing stage. Harry had been so lost in thought, he hadn't even noticed that they had entered the village, until now. He looked around and tried to suck in every detail. The houses were mostly made of wood, very few were made of stone. Many buildings were ornamented on some places. In every of these decorations could be seen a dragon. Harry knew the history that surrounded this town and was well aware of its meaning. The planks they were walking on seemed stable enough to hold them and looked used. Harry could see traces of the heavy shoes Dwarfs wore, a few traces of elves that surely had been trading things down here and there were also rather smelly witnesses of horses, dogs, cats, goats and all other kinds of animals, but the most popular traces were of men, women and children.

Harry looked up in the sky. The stars seemed a little bit darker than in the forest and on the lake. The whole Town seemed deserted. This combined with the darkness made the atmosphere a little bit spooky. Unconsciously, he pulled the hood further down on his face. He took a deep breath to calm himself. 'It's not the darkness itself we fear, it's the unfamiliarity about it.' He thought, 'No need to be scared.'

A foreign voice made him jump.

"What is it that you desire, strangers?"

He hadn't even been aware of the guards. Estel would've been disappointed. He hadn't paid attention. In another situation this could have cost him his life. Well, now he had the tip of a sword pointed at him, so his life was also a little bit endangered.

"We come in peace and in search for a place to rest for the night."

Estel had spoken. His Dad's common speech wasn't that advanced.

"Any Weapons?"

"I carry a sword and two daggers." -Estel again.

"I carry a bow, ten arrows and two short swords."

Wow, his Dad had managed to hide the sindarin accent quite well. One of the four guards wrote everything down. Harry wondered briefly if he had to tell them about his daggers.

"Reveal."

Every arm was shown to the guards. Two of them scanned his Dad and Estel for any more weapons but none were found. Harry was unsure whether to feel relieved or offended about the lack of attention.

Harry watched as the writer-guard filled some kind of form that recorded every detail about the arrows, swords and the bow. From its looks to the size and possible damage. Harry stifled a yawn with his sleeve. The moon already stood high. He was really tired.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the guards approved of them (A fair sum of money had also changed hands) and they were allowed to get their weapons and head into the village. Each of them a written permission in their pocket that they should always, under every condition carry with them.

"Were are we going?"

"We shall rest in the 'the golden Dragon'. An inn, near the middle of the town."

Harry smiled. Everything seemed to be connected to history in this town. He loved it. Now that they were walking, the atmosphere changed from spooky to… something different. It was hard to describe. On the one hand everything that had come after the Death of Smaug was new and exciting. The foundation on the other hand, together with everything that had already been in Smaug's time, looked morbid. Harry found it unusual but also very fascinating. He couldn't wait to see it in daylight. Would there be many people? How Many? More than in Mirkwood forest? Less? Harry discovered once more, that patience was not his forte.

"Harry!"

His Head shot around only to see a hand reaching out for him. Estel grabbed his shoulder.

"What?"

"Look were you are going!"

Harry's eyes found the floor – only to see that he would have fallen into the lake if it hadn't been for Estel. The Town seemed to be built on the lake. Everywhere was water. Under the planks that were used as path, next to the Path and between the houses. Harry looked up.

"Thanks Estel."

"No harm done. Just try to pay a little more attention. I know you are tired, but we are almost there."

Harry nodded and tried not to let his thoughts wander. In the darkness everything seemed to look the same. He tried to remember the way, but he lost count after the third bridge that looked the same. After what seemed like an eternity, His Dad's voice broke the silence.

_"Here we are! 'The golden Dragon'."_

_"Doesn't look anything like the name."_

_"I suppose you are right. But, it is the inside that counts, is it? not"_

_"I hope so."_

The building was relatively large, but it looked shabby and old. Not a good old but a bad old. The Wood was humid and parts seemed rotten. The windows were dark except for three little ones next to the entrance. Harry gulped and opened the door. Instantly, a man with a friendly smile that showed his yellow-brownish teeth, chubby cheeks and small eyes with a friendly twinkle in it, appeared.

"Hello, Strangers. Do you want a bed for the night? You're lucky, I just wanted to go to bed myself. A few minutes later and the door would have been closed. Now, were are your authorizations?"

"Here. This is the child's, this is mine and this is the Elf's."

Aragorn handed all three formulas over and watched the Innkeeper as he wrote their names, race and nearly everything on the paper into a huge book.

"Everything seems to be in order. You have Room 23 and 26. I wish you a good night's sleep."

"Thanks. Rest well yourself. "

Harry didn't really remember much after that. He was so tired. He vaguely remembered stairs, a wooden door and a bed. He was asleep, even before his head touched the Pillows.

* * *

 

**°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°**

 

* * *

Harry woke up early the next day. He wondered briefly, why he could not hear the birds singing and the rustling of the leaves. Then he remembered. He was in the lake town. He was not in the forest. He jumped out of the bed and hastily opened the window. Noise was the first thing he heard. Sadly, the window showed only as inner courtyard. A very small one.

_"Dad, come on, look, the sun is up in the sky, come, up! Pleaaase, I want to go out!"_

Harry turned around again and made his decision.

_"Urgh… Harry…?"_

Yep. Jumping on the bed had been a very good choice. He finally had his dad's attention. From the position of the sun he could see, that they had only about 12 and a half hours until the sun would disappear behind the horizon again. They had to hurry! Harry tried to hide his amusement, at his exasperated looking father.

Half an hour later, Harry walked at his dad's side next to Estel down the stairs inside the inn. They all ate breakfast together in Estel's room with the rest of yesterdays' dinner and lunch. Now they would finally go outside. Harry was even more excited and fidgety than yesterday. He wanted to see all the people, all the market stalls and everything else that could possibly be there.

_"Come **on**! You are so **slow**! Walk **faster**."_

His Dad sent him a warning look.

_"Err, please hurry up."_

_"Just wait a minute, Harry. We need to pay for the night. A good opportunity to practice patience."_

Harry groaned and slumped down on the floor. He wished, he hadn't promised to always stay in sight. He just wanted his new adventure to start. Mirkwood forest held no more adventures. He'd had every possible adventure you could have there without going near the spiders. He knew the forest by heart, every single passageway was familiar to him. He had even explored the catacombs, where the river flowed under the palace. He wanted a new adventure.

_"Here we are. That was not bad, was it?"_

Harry mumbled something inaudible and stood up again.

_"Can we pleeeease go now?"_

_"Yes. We shall go now."_

A triumphant smile spread across Harry's lips and he grabbed his Dad's hand in an attempt to drag him to the door.

_"Now, now, Harry. What is it with this impatience?"_

_"I just want to see something new."_

With a smile, his Dad opened the door. Instantly a loud noise reached Harrys ears. The air smelled somehow soiled. He decided not to let this affect his latest adventure. As soon as they were out in the street, the small group was surrounded by people.

So many people. Harry had never seen so many people in such a small room. People bumped into Harry from all directions. The loud noise made his ears hurt. Harry felt somehow very small. There were so many people. It was somehow difficult to breath with this polluted air. So many people. People. So many. Too much. Too much. Too much. Harry couldn't think! There were just too many people. All his brain managed was 'Get out of here'. Get out. Out, out, out, was all he could think.

So he ducked away from the crowd and ran. He bumped into people left and right. He wasn't even aware that some of them shouted insults at him. He could hear the blood rushing through his ears. He closed his eyes and ran on, purely led by his instincts. One of the merchants let down a basket of fruit right before him. He jumped over it but didn't quite manage the full distance. The basket fell and the fruit spread over the floor. Distantly he could hear someone yell 'Thief!' and felt hands trying to grab him, his hood was pushed down, but he was faster than the men.

After a while, the noise became less and less. He only stopped, as he felt earth under his shoes. His eyes opened and harry gasped. He was surrounded by small hills. The village was nowhere in sight. If he would have climbed one of the hills, he would have easily seen the Esgaroth, but his brain was still too caught up in the recent events.

'So many people, so much noise, such bad air'. These thoughts were rapidly swirling around in his head. He didn't even realize were he ran. His feet just carried him away from this horrid place. He ran and ran and ran. Unaware of his surroundings. Unaware of the danger he walked right into.

He was torn from his thoughts by a harsh, disgusting sound. His eyes searched his surroundings. Nothing. He turned around again to walk on, but there was somebody standing in his way. Brown, Muddy skin, deformed face and black teeth. An Orc. Harry took his sword. 'Wait, one orc? That means…' his head shot around, just in time to see a sword aiming in his direction. He ducked and ran for it. The Orcs hot at his heels. His body was exhausted from the short night's sleep and the long run he'd had to get out of the village. His feet and head hurt and he had a stitch in the side. But he ran on. He knew, the moment he would stop would be his death. The rash language had to be the black speech. It was spoken in the land of Mordor. The place where the nameless evil rose. Harry coughed. He wouldn't be able to do this any longer. Then he heard it. He may have imagined it, maybe it had been a trick in his head, but he still heard it. A voice.

_"Keep running, little one. The helpless will obtain help. The selfless will experience selflessness. Kindness will be provided those who are kind."_

Somehow, this voice provided Harry energy. But far from enough. He would have to find the town, and he hand no idea where it was. With his luck, he was very likely running in the opposite direction. He would never be able to escape the Orcs. They were already catching up. Harry looked back at the approaching creatures and failed to see the rock on his path. His heart stopped for a second as he fell. His head hit a stone. That was it. He would be dead any minute now. He didn't want to die. His life had been good. He'd had fun. He should have been able to fight when the war came. Argh, and his head hurt. He could feel warm, sticky liquid pour from the place his head had collided with the stone. This was going to be his end. He knew it. A single tear escaped his eye as he thought of his family, his Dad and Estel. At least, he would be able to see his parents now. All this thoughts had been there in the split of a second.

Then the Orcs arrived. One of them bend over Harry with a nasty smile that showed his black teeth. The last thing Harry saw before everything went black, was a trace of silver and white that split the orcs head in two.

* * *

**°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°**

* * *

Legolas was beside himself with worry. During Harry's Panic attack he hadn't been able to reach him. Now he was gone. As a child of Harry's size it was by far easier to move in this crowd. From far away he could hear someone scream 'Thief!' and somehow he was sure that this was Harry. Together with Estel he was chasing in the direction Harry had gone off. But he knew: It was no use. That didn't stop the upcoming panic. So they went on and on and on. It was impossible trying to find a trace. There were so many people that you couldn't keep a dwarf's footstep from a Man's.

They searched the whole town. No Harry in sight. No trace of Harry. But most importantly: NO HARRY!

Before the panic could prevail completely, Legolas hear a voice. He jumped a little.

_"Do not fear for the little one. He is in care of Lothlórien. You shall be allowed to come and take your son home."_

Legolas stood still. Estel turned around to look at him.

_"Legolas? What's the matter?"_

The Lady of Light. The Lady of Lórien. Lady Galadriel… Wait, what?

* * *

 

**°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°**

 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it, concerns, compliments and complaints in the comments please. :)


	4. Explore your mind - 3

* * *

 

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

 

* * *

 

"Watch out for your left!"

"Pay Attention!"

"Faster!"

"Parry!"

"More offensive!"

Estel's shouts sounded sharp like knives in the otherwise silent glade near the palace in Mirkwood. Harry's clothes were wet with sweat and he panted from exertion.

The sword lessons where becoming harder and harder. Estel and his Dad seemed to think that harry was too good for his own good. They feared he would become arrogant if it ever came down to a battle. Harry was sure that he wouldn't. They just didn't seem to believe him. They were also concerned about his near obsession with training and learning. They thought he should be little bit more like other children of the age eleven were. But he didn't feel like eleven years old. He felt older. The night in Lothlórien had changed everything. He knew what he would face - one way or another. And when the time came, he wanted to be ready. As knowledge was power – his grandfather was fond of this sentence – he spent most of his time reading and training. When Estel was out on some mission in the north, he trained on his own and rarely even with his dad.

Harry stepped to the side to evade Estel's trainings sword (made of wood instead on a sharp blade), only to be hit by the also wooden trainings-dagger directly above his heart. Estel had won… again.

"Good, Little one! You didn't forget anything while I was away. But you have to learn to pay attention to more than just to one thing at once."

Harry had propped his hands on his knees and panted heavily. Still unable to answer, he merely nodded. Estel laughed. At least, the Dúnedain's breath was quicker than usually. He was at least slightly exhausted.

"But you're getting better, Harry! You managed to hold up more than twenty minutes! A new record!"

Harry flashed the man a smile and stood up again.

"Thanks. Can we try again?"

"You want to repeat it? Are you sure?"

Harry nodded. Yes, he was sure. In order to be ready for his destiny, he had to be capable of fighting. The day that changed everything repeated itself in Harry's mind.

 

* * *

 

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

 

* * *

 

***Flashback***

 

Slowly, Harry became aware of his surroundings. He lay on something soft. In front of his eyelids was very bright light. He would have to open his eyes. But that would cause a headache for sure…

He decided to sleep on for a while for he felt very exhausted. Harry tried to remember what he had done that could have caused this. Slowly, images began to invade his mind.

The Boat, the golden Dragon, the crowd, the panic, the hills and finally the orcs. Harry groaned. Then he knew, where he was. He was dead. He had to be. There was no other option. Dead as the mouse Lugnos had chosen to eat in front of him.

If he was dead, he couldn't get a headache, could he? Well, in Harry's opinion, it was worth a try. The first thing he saw, were many white, golden and green colours. Even though he couldn't see much (apparently he hadn't received a healing draught for his eyes), everything seemed peaceful. The time seemed to have stopped. Magic and many other energies were in the air and tempted Harry to reach out with his magic to discover all of it. He couldn't imagine a place that was more exciting.

"Am I dead? Is this heaven?"

As he hadn't expected an answer, Harry jumped at the sound of someone chuckling. It was a melodious laugh. He wasn't with orcs then. Thank the Valar! Maybe this was one of the Valar?

" _No, Little one. You are in the Land of Lothlórien."_

Harry's eyes grew wide. He was in the 'fairest of all the dwellings of the elves on earth' as his Dad liked to say. He'd heard many stories about the breath-taking beauty of the forest and the Lady Galadriel reigning alongside Lord Cereborn.

" _I am?"_

The melodious Laugh rang through the room again.

" _Indeed, Little one. Would you like to take a healing draught or your unfortunate eyesight?"_

Harry nodded and took the small vial. After pouring the tasteless liquid down his throat, he tilted his head slightly to the side.

" _Thank you. May I ask your name?"_

" _You're welcome, little one. My name is Lhainor. I shall tell the Lady of your awakening though I have the strong feeling that she already knows. She wants to talk to you personally. That is a great honour, little one."_

" _I've heard her. She talked to me when I was running away from the orcs. She has to have much power to be able to affect minds from here to Esgaroth. I heard she was beautiful, even more so than most elves."_

" _You will find that you are true. She is just as beautiful and powerful as the forest here."_

With that, Lhainor stood up, gave him a bright smile and left the room with light steps. Sadly this made it impossible for Harry to know in which direction he went off. He wondered how much time he had until the Lady came to see him. She wouldn't want to talk to him while he was in a nightgown and having unkempt hair, would she? Well, no one in Mirkwood cared how he looked, but there was also no Lady. He'd never met a Lady and didn't really know what to expect. He quickly stood up and looked around in the small room. There was only a small trunk, a small table and a chair. A small pile of clothes along with a jug of water and a comb lay on the desk. Cleaning as fast as he could, he slipped in the comfortable clothes. They were softer than his Travel cloak, but that didn't mean much as the cloak was Man made. He made an attempt to comb his hair but he gave up after a few tries with his hair not looking any different – just as every morning.

Harry stifled a yawn and went to sit on the chair just as a soft knock sounded. Suddenly wide awake, he jumped to the door and hastily opened it. But it wasn't the Lady. It was – sadly – only Lhainor.

" _I see you are ready. Very good. I shall take you to Lady Galadriel now. She awaits you at her mirror. Not many but her have seen through it. Treasure everything you shall see in your heart as it will affect your life – whether if willingly or not."_

Harry could only nod in amazement, stand up and walk after Lhainor. Why did she let _him_ look into the legendary mirror? He was just Harry. No one of importance. Just another child on this huge earth. Small and unimportant. What would it matter if he looked? Important people like Estel or his Grandfather should be looking. Or his Dad. But not him. He wasn't important. Just somebody amongst many somebodies. Harry had no time to ponder any further as Lhainor suddenly stopped.

" _Here. These stairs lead to your destination. Good luck little one, for I know you will need it."_

" _Err, thanks, Lhainor."_

" _I shall leave you now. Do not hesitate too long. Farewell for now, Harry."_

" _Goodbye for now, Lhainor."_

The friendly elf turned around with a solemn expression and was out of sight before Harry realized it. He gulped. He would have to face this all alone. Well. Now, he felt like a grown up. Grownups did everything by themselves, didn't they? Gathering up all his courage he went to see the new and unknown. He didn't particularly like surprises. And he was impatient. This was an unpleasant combination as he wanted to hide somewhere as well as run down the stairs at the same time. He took one deep breath and began ascending the stairs. There stood a tall figure dressed in white with incredibly long blonde hair. The Lady turned around with the same solemn expression as Lhainor on her face. Yet her lips formed a smile as she caught sight of him.

" _Little Harry. You finally have come. I always wondered when you would arrive here in_ _Lothlórien. Your fate is as precisely predicted as few."_

Her voice sounded in his head. It was strange, hearing her talk and yet not seeing her mouth move. Harry was slightly confused. Why would anyone bother to predict his future? There were surely some strange people out there. There was nothing important to be predicted. Most likely these were the most boring prophecies ever made.

" _Do not fear the future little one. You will not go unnoticed by history. You shall be the saviour of the light in another world to return with the more might than ever to help fight the battles the future holds."_

" _Why me?"_

" _Because you have extraordinary abilities, Harry. You can see who deserves forgiveness and who deserves to be sentenced. You see right into the hearts of men. You shall bear the light for two worlds. The one world is to be saved from darkness, the other world needs someone to give the bearer of evil light in the darkness."_

Harry tilted his head slightly to the side. He couldn't imagine himself doing anything like this. 'Maybe' he thought, 'Growing up isn't so much fun. I will have to do so many important things then'. The Lady took a slim jar filled with water seemingly out of nothing. She poured some of it into a flat, silver basin. Then she took a step back and looked at Harry.

" _Look inside for you shall see things that were, and things that are, and things that yet may be.* But do not touch the water."_

Cautious, not daring to ask any questions or hesitate, he glanced in Lady Galadriel's mirror. After a few seconds, a grey haze seemed to cover the leaves that were mirroring on the water surface. Then, a moment later the mist seemed to fade and a clear picture appeared in front of Harrys eyes.

A tall man with a white beard, blue eyes and colourful robes stood in front of a man with black hair and a heavily pregnant woman with auburn hair. His parents… He would recognise them everywhere. His father did his best to calm down his mother. She was sobbing. The old man bowed his head and handed his father a piece of parchment. The picture changed slightly so he could look over his parents' shoulders and read the text:

_**The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...** _

_**born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...** _

_**and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...** _

_**and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives...** _

_**the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...**** _

Then the image turned hazy again. Harry nearly touched the water in an attempt to hold his parents back but Lady Galadriel's warning was still present in his mind. He knew better than to ignore it. When the mist was gone, he could see a lonely man sitting on a table in a slightly cold looking kitchen. He had a small photograph in his Hand, slightly torn on the edges and the colour fading a little. It looked as if it was always carried around. In the picture Harry could see a baby with a small patch of Black hair and vibrant green eyes. Harry was shocked: It was undoubtedly him. Why did this man have a picture of him? The man looked up from the picture, his grey eyes full of pain, guilt and sorrow. He looked up towards the sealing, sighed and silently mouthed _**Harry**_.

The mirror clouded again and when the mist faded, Harry winced slightly. He saw a young man that resembled himself greatly standing proudly, head up high in the middle of a ring of black hooded people. All those people had committed many crimes. Harry could tell that. He didn't know how, but he knew it. Then he saw the man he was facing in this future. Well, he was not exactly sure: Was this a man? He'd never seen someone like that before. A face like a snake, long, thin limbs that would have been more suitable for a skeleton and red eyes. Harry looked in these eyes and knew: this man had only one intention. Kill the future Harry. Yet the man that was seemingly him smiled and stood tall, as if he had no care in the world. Then, the Snake-faced man sneered and held some sort of stick up in front of his chest, pointing at future-Harry. A sickeningly green jet of light emerged from the tip and flew straight at Harry's future self. Harry knew this would bring death. The green light was created to kill. Everything about this light told cruel stories about death. Harry's future self did nothing to prevent it. He just stood there, smiling. Then, the light collided with future-Harry. Everything went white and for the split of second there was a weird symbol. It looked a little bit like an eye. There was triangle containing a circle and a line. It felt important. The next image he saw, was a figure engulfed in fire with power radiating in small waves from it. He felt extremely powerful seeing and even feeling this picture. Burning didn't seem to bother the figure at all. He couldn't recognise the person, but it moved so gracefully - clearly a warrior's movements. Then, the grey mist settled over the picture again and before he knew, he saw the leaves of the trees above him and his own face mirroring in the water.

He looked up at the Lady. She looked at him with an unreadable expression. Slowly, Harry stepped a few inches away from the basin and waited expectantly for her to say something. After what seemed like an eternity, she met his gaze and slowly started to speak intently.

" _Never lose your willpower and everything shall be possible. Wait for the fire."_

Harry could only nod, which seemed to satisfy her anyway. He started to become a little unsure under her intense stare. She shook her head briefly and looked towards the stair.

" _You may go now, Lhainor will accompany you to your room. I believe your Foster Father awaits you rather worried."_

Harry thought it would probably good to say something, but his tongue was somehow too heavy to say a word. So he nodded again (feeling somehow very dumb). Careful not to trip over anything, he made his way back to the stairs and up. Just before he was at the end of the staircase, he turned around.

" _Th- chrm – Thank you, milady. I shall keep your words and the pictures in my heart."_

Now it was her who nodded. Harry went away as silent as possible. At the first corner he met the waiting Lhainor.

" _Harry, I hope you had an enlightening trip?"_

" _Er, yes, you could call it that…"_

" _Now, your father awaits you in your room. We shall fetch him and go to dinner, where Estel currently lingers."_

Harry nodded again and followed Lhainor a little bit limply. He would have many things to think about tonight.

** *Flashback end* **

 

* * *

 

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

 

* * *

 

Completely exhausted, Harry lay down on the ground. The second duel with Estel had lasted only fifteen minutes until he had felt the sword on in his neck. At least Estel panted, too.

After a few minutes he managed to move his limbs without unbearable effort again, he stood up, took his wooden sword and dagger and walked over to Estel again. The man brushed some sweat off his forehead and started talking slightly out of breath.

"Shall we go back inside? Dinner will be served shortly."

"Really? It's already that late?"

"Ha, you're funny! Already? You're out here since 8 am! You didn't even go inside for Lunch!"

"There was no need to interrupt our training! I was perfectly content with eating bread and cheese here!"

"Yes, **you** were content with it. But I wasn't! There would have been venison! I haven't had good deer in ages!"

"You were camping in the forest. You've had nothing but deer in ages."

"But I meant **good** deer. You know I'm a miserable cook."

"Yes. That you are. But you could've taken me with you. Then I could cook and you'd go off fighting"

"Don't tell me something like that. I would have to tie you up around a tree every time in order to prevent you from coming along."

Harry pouted and crossed his arms. After the raining the two of them would always tease each other. It was almost like a ritual. Harry loved it. It showed him that Estel viewed him as an equal. Not as some irresponsible child. Harry had proven himself worthy many times. He could discuss things just as serious as the elves, he understood middle earths' politics (Not that this subject was very complicated) and he could distinguish joking from being serious.

Estel and Harry parted in comfortable silence, each going to their rooms. Harry took a quick bath and after putting on his clothes, he went into the dining hall for dinner.

He sat down on his usual place next to his Dad, who greeted him warmly. Harry smiled back and helped himself to a few carrots and some chicken. The conversations flowed around him like wind and he couldn't help but relax in this familiar atmosphere.

_"So, how did the training go, son?"_

_"Brilliant, I managed to hold up for more than twenty minutes. Estel said I was getting better."_

_"Wonderful! How about making a break tomorrow? You've earned it."_

Harry frowned.

_"Why?"_

_"You're always working. That's not healthy."_

_"Do we have to talk about this **again**?"_

_"Yes, Harry, again. I don't want you to break down from over exercising."_

_"I won't break down, dad. I told you before. I want this. I need this."_

_"Pausing one day won't kill you. I'm really worried about this. Your obsession with training is becoming a serious issue."_

_"You think so? Well, **I** don't think so! Goodnight, Dad."_

Harry glared at him and stood up. They've had this discussion about a million times. His Dad wouldn't stop trying to get Harry to take a break. But Harry knew: Every lost day couldn't ever be given back. He would need every bit of time he had to prepare. Otherwise, pausing one day could very well kill him sometime in the future. He hadn't told his Dad of Estel about anything he'd seen in the mirror. He wasn't sure if he was allowed.

 

* * *

 

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

 

* * *

 

Back in his room, he took the book on top of the pile next to his desk. The title read 'Skin-changers: Myth or Reality?'. Harry knew of course that Beornings were in fact not a myth as did every person who spent more effort in research than just asking some gossiping old women. But Harry was completely engulfed with the subject. It was the most interesting thing nature had come up with – at least in his opinion.

If only you could learn this ability! There was no better way to hide in the wilderness than to be part of it. Harry opened the book where he had stopped reading yesterday evening. With a sigh he stopped again after he read a page. This book was so useless. No facts just speculations that weren't even based on facts. Just someone who considered himself important writing down what he thought to be completely reasonable and proven thoughts. In truth everyone who knew at least one thing about skin-changers knew, that this book was complete, utter rubbish. But since he had already read all the good and factual books, he was stuck with this.

Harry liked to imagine, what he would become if he was a skin-shifter. Beornings all became bears, so much was clear, but he wasn't anywhere related to that ancient family. So he could become something else if he could transfigure himself into an animal. Up until now, he had no idea, which animal would resemble him most.

With a sigh, he devoted his attention to his book again. He was about to stop reading and toss the book out of the window – not that he'd ever do that to a book, no matter how bad the author was – when something caught his attention.

**'Most Skin-changers are descendants of Beornings, but it is rumoured, that others, mostly foreign and in mystery engulfed people are able to change their appearance, too. Many people along the river Morthond claim to have seen a man being able to change into a crow. The few inhabitants of the Forochel ice-bay are convinced that they have seen a woman change into a huge, white bear. These rumours have to be confirmed yet but I have managed to get to talk to one of the eyewitnesses.**

**Kept mumblin' 'bout be'n with you' inner animal or somth'n like tha'. Was always sittn cross legged, eyes closed. Th' Other Day I was walk'n by, he'd gottn him' feathers at his ars - err- bum.**

**Now, as our eyewitness stated: It is necessary to meditate a lot in order to find your inner animal. No one has been able to witness what comes beyond that.'**

Harry stopped. This was the first time this book had brought something as close to a witness at all. Somehow, Harry wanted to believe the author. It was worth a try, wasn't it? But he would have to ask someone what meditating exactly was.

Just as Harry had closed his eyes and crossed his legs in order to try what the man in the book was doing, a knock came from his door. His eyes snapped open and he fought the urge to say 'I'm busy, go away!'.

_"Yes?"_

_"Harry? Can we talk?"_

His dad again. They were stuck in this conflict for what seemed like eternity. Well, in fact it had been only a little over two years. Ever since Lothlórien and the mirror. Harry sighed.

_"Yes, Dad, come in."_

The Elf closed the door behind him and went to sit on Harry's bed since Harry had occupied the chair next to his desk. His Dad looked him in the eye, with a rather worried expression.

_"See, Harry, I know you try to hide it, but I know that there's something bothering you. I wanted to tell you in the beginning, that you can always tell me everything. I'm there for you."_

Harry bowed his head shortly before nodding. Could he tell his Dad about the prophecy?

_"I also know, that this change happened after we went in the village and you stayed in Lothlórien. If it does have to do something with either of these events, please, just tell me about it. Not knowing what's troubling you, is really hard."_

Harry instantly felt guilty. He didn't want his Dad to feel bad because of him. He may be annoying at times, but he was still his Dad.

_"I just hope that we don't continue to fight like that. I enjoy conversing in a friendly manner so much more."_

Harry nodded but remained silent, fighting an internal battle. Should he tell his Dad? Yes? No? He had avoided and rejected any questions regarding his change for the last two years and to be honest, he grew tired of hiding. He looked up to meet his Dad's still worried look. He made up his mind.

_"The Lady Galadriel let me look into her mirror."_

His Dad mouthed a silent 'oh'.

_"I saw my parents as they were given a strange note, possibly the prophecy in this Dumbledore-man's letter. I don't remember every word precisely, but it basically states that I must fight this dark lord-guy because it's either me who defends him or no one and if he lives, I can't survive for neither can live while the other survives."_

His Dad nodded, a frown on his face, looking more worried than ever.

_"Then I saw the present, a man with a picture of me as a baby with a newspaper. He looked awfully sad and then he looked at the ceiling and said my name."_

His dad didn't seem to be worried about this one though the frown was still present.

_"Next, I saw the future. There was a man that looked like me, though he was more confident than me, I think. He stood in the middle of dark people with dark souls. A man who seemed more like a skeleton with a snake face than a human. The snake man killed my future self with a jet of green light that came out of a stick he pointed at me. Then there was a strange symbol – I can draw it, wait."_

Harry draw the line, the circle at its end and the triangle surrounding both and showed it his Dad.

_"It seemed to be important. Then I saw a woman that was engulfed by flames, which didn't seem to bother her though. That's it. The Lady only told me to never lose my willpower and to wait for the fire. Don't know what that means, though."_

As Harry finished, his chest felt lighter. As if he had just vanished a huge weight crushing him down that he hadn't noticed before. He was relieved to feel this way. He didn't feel guilty sharing his experience. His Dad was still silent. After a few minutes, Harry became slightly awkward.

_"Err, Dad? Don't you want to say something?"_

He seemed to snap out of some sort of stupor and looked confused at him, before he shook his head and opened his mouth to speak.

_"Okay, Harry, I can understand you now, at least partly. But you still have to consider my argument: You won't do your future any good, if you break yourself by over exercising. You'll have to take a break once in a while in order to not hurt yourself, okay?"_

Harry stared at his Dad for a moment before hesitantly nodding. He wasn't quite comfortable with the break, but since his father knew everything now, and still hadn't changed his mind, Harry saw that there had to be a little logic in his Dad's opinion.

_"Is there anything else you can or want to say? How do you feel about this whole thing?"_

_"To be honest? I feel confused. I don't see me being able to do any of these stuff. I don't want to be the one fighting dark lords. I just want to be another soldier amongst millions. But apparently that won't come true. Otherwise I haven't given it too much thought. I like to distract myself from that topic. Concentrating on other things helps to calm me down a bit."_

His Dad nodded and they both sat in comfortable silence for a while.

_"So, we are good again?"_

_"Yes, Harry, we most certainly are."_

Harry grinned and jumped on his feet to hug his Dad. He heard him chuckle and was relieved to see the smile on his Dad's face.

_"I will leave you alone now, I'm sure you have a lot to think about, little one."_

_"Okay… Err... Wait, just a quick question: what is mediating?"_

His Dad looked surprised.

_"Meditating is... a kind of relaxation, I guess. You close your eyes, sit in the lotus position and just explore your mind. It helps you to focus yourself. It's good to do it before a battle. You will be able to concentrate better."_

Trying not to forget anything, harry nodded once again.

_"Thanks, Dad."_

_"You're welcome, Harry. See you tomorrow."_

_"Good night."_

Harry smiled at his Dad as he left his room and settled down on his bed as soon as the door was closed.

Mind made up, he crossed his legs to the lotus position. Closing his eyes, he tried to think nothing. When his head was clear of emotions, he concentrated on the feel inside his head.

He tried to imagine his memories hidden in trunks. Slowly exploring his head, he noticed different currents of energy. They didn't seem to come from his head. There were two types of this energy: Very powerful currents, accompanied by the tingling feeling of magic, similar to the sensation that always accompanied Mithrandir and the other current that made him feel warm and loved.

He decided to follow one of the warm currents. It went somehow down, away from his mind. The comfortable warmth threatened to overwhelm him, but he managed to fight it. Then, Harry reached the source of the feeling. A somehow shapeless ball of colours.

The majority of the thing was red and white. A few golden and light blue spots were press over the whole thing. Harry was fascinated. He could watch that thing forever. It spoke of loving, being loved, honesty and purity.

Buy something wasn't quite right. His gaze found a dark spot on the edge. Barely visible against the colourless black around the colour-thing. It felt evil. It spoke of merciless ambition, cruelty and murder. This part was oddly shaped – a lightning bolt, like his scar Somehow it was mostly of a nasty green colour, the same as the jet of light that killed his future self in Galadriel's mirror. A few spots were also pitch black.

Looking at this spot, Harry felt the urge to vomit. He wanted to rip this part away from this colour-thing. He felt dirty looking at it. Like he was tainted. As if he was contagious and could die from disease at any moment. He didn't want to have this thing there. It didn't belong to the colour-thing. It was an unwanted intruder.

Harry forced himself to look away. As soon as him eyes found the more beautiful, lighter colours, he felt relaxed again. He didn't manage to resist the comfortable warmness that threatened to overwhelm him this time.

He felt like he was falling. He fell and fell and fell. Without obstacles or anywhere to fall onto. He just fell into nothingness. Suddenly, it stopped. Now, he was floating in nothingness instead.

He closed his eyes and imagined Mirkwood forest around him. He just wished he could fly in reality, too. Not just here- wherever 'here' was.

When he suddenly felt ground under his feet again, he hesitantly opened his eyes. He was in a forest - that much was clear. But what a forest! Not like anything Harry had ever seen. The air was warm and humid, the plants looked otherworldly and strange. Not even the trees looked familiar. They were huge. Higher than Mellyrn but not as beautiful and they looked very old. Harry realized, that he was running. Odd, he couldn't remember starting to move. He looked at his feet and if his body would actually obey, he would have literally jumped.

He had Paws. Huge, black Paws. Similar to a cats, but bigger. Harry gulped. What was this place? His feet ran faster. Gracile he made his way through the trees. Then, only the split of a second before he would have fallen into a small pond, he stopped. Colourful fish he'd never even heard about swam right under the water surface but sped away as Harry arrived. Then he got a look at his reflection. This time, he did jump. Away from the water that is. There was a huge black animal with even huger teeth staring back at him. Pitch black fur, emerald green eyes and a long, cat-like tail. He had never heard of or seen such an animal. There was certainly no such cat-creature-thing in middle-earth. But Harry had to admit – it looked impressive. He parted his lips to look at his teeth again. He had fangs. How awesome was that?! He touched them with his tongue. They were sharp as needles.

He tried moving his tail next. 'Okay', Harry thought 'This is just gross'. He could find no words to describe what it felt like to have a tail. A little bit like another arm that was used to hold balance. His ears twitched as he heard a ruffle in the leaves behind him.

_"Is anyone here?"_ Harry tried to say, but instead only a fearsome growl came out of his mouth.

_"Wow."_ Another cat-like sound.

_"This is just the most weird and simultaneously awesome thing I've ever experienced."_ The sound that came out of his throat were mostly a mixture of meows and hissing. Harry decided to stop speaking, as it was really – like really _really_ weird.

He'd just decided to get up and explore this strange place more, as the leaves ruffled again. He jumped on his feet, stumbled as he was not used to having four legs with paws instead of merely two legs with feet and fell straight into the water.

With a gasp, Harry opened his eyes. He still sat in the same position as when he first closed his eyes. Sunrise seemed to have just started. Had he really been out for so long? Harry yawned and stretched his back. He froze when he felt something hit his back. He looked around. He still had a tail. Harry blinked a few times. How in the world should he explain his Dad, Estel and everyone else that he'd grown himself a tail from a huge, foreign, cat-like creature that didn't even exist in middle earth?

Harry forced himself to calm down. Panicking wouldn't help him now. Slowly, his mind became clear again and he was once again able to focus. Okay, Meditating brought the tail, Meditating would vanish it again (hopefully). So Harry started the whole process again. Lotus position, eyes closed and clearing his head from all thoughts and emotions. Once again in his imagination with his memory trunks, he found the currents after some search again. Deciding to take one of the other type now, he followed the tingling sensation he associated with magic. After some time flowing with the current, he saw once again a colourful, shapeless spot. It was different from the other colour-thing. This here was indescribable. It had a shape but you couldn't compare it to familiar shapes. It was coloured, but a colour with no name and no chance of comparison to known colours. The only thing Harry could think of was 'Magic'. The spot radiated power. The whole thing was raw energy. Pure power.

Harry reached out – if with his hand or with his thoughts, he didn't know – and grasped some of it. He concentrated. The tail. He felt the power tingle down his spine into his lower body half. He tried to let it all flow into the tail. Then he tried to vanish it somehow. To his surprise, it even worked. The feeling he had now, was strange. As if the Energy was sucking up the cells of the tail like a sponge sucked up water.

Slowly, he became exhausted once again. He was losing his grip on the magic. With last effort, he managed to get the energy inside the colour-spot again. Then he opened his eyes again.

The sun shone brightly into his room. Harry struggled slightly getting up but managed it. Looking out of the window, he gasped. From the sun's position he could see that it was well past noon. He'd had missed out breakfast and lunch.

He sat down on his chair again. Doing magic was exhausting. Not as exhausting as in the beginning when he had no control over how much of his energy he put into an action but still extremely draining. His stomach grumbled. He was hungry. He groaned and stood up again. Wondering if this was how orcs felt in daylight and made his way toward the door. A short trip to the kitchens and a very long nap would be the best now.

The moment he wanted to open the door, someone knocked against his door. Sighing, he opened the door. Food. Thank the Valar! His Dad had come and brought him food. Mumbling something that could be interpreted as a 'thanks' he took the tablet out of his Dad's arms and started eating even before he had placed the tray on the desk and himself on his chair.

His Dad had a smirk on his face.

_"Hungry, are you?"_

_"Wef. Prawtished mashsih."_

_"What?"_

Harry swallowed his mouthful chicken and cleared his throat.

_"I have been practising magic. Basically the whole night, though I didn't realize that until dawn."_

_"You did what?!"_

Harry grinned sheepishly at his Dad exasperated face.

_"Practised magic the whole night?"_

A heavy sigh left his Dad's mouth and he shook his head.

_"I guess I should give you a dictionary."_

_"A Dictionary?"_

_"Yes. I am under the impression, that you clearly don not know what 'Break' means."_

His Dad's harsh words were somehow not as threatening when he wore a small smile on his face.

_"Yes, dad, that would probably be for the best. And I would need the dictionary for another reason, too. I need to change the definition of Skin-changer. Not only Beornings can change themselves into animals. And you cannot only change into a bear. I found my so called inner animal during meditating. I'm some kind of huge black cat. It's awesome and scary at the same time. I'll just have to manage the transfiguration."_

If he had known how long it would actually take him to change into the animal fully, he would have never said 'just'.

 

* * *

 

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it, thank you for all Comments, Kudos etc :)
> 
> * is not mine but J.R.R. Tolkien's
> 
> ** is not mine but J.K. Rowling's


	5. Realisations - 4

* * *

 

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

 

* * *

 

Winters around the Lonely Mountain were always a magnificent sight. With everything clad in white, fluffy snow, the lakes and rivers mostly ice covered, and the mountain majestically towering above the landscape, most would call it the most beautiful time of the year. Nothing at all seemed to be different this year. Sadly, appearances were often deceiving.

Rumours could be heard everywhere. Rumours about Mordor, the black, tainted lands. Rumours about Dark forces being as active as they hadn't been in decades. The citizens eyed every stranger with fear and hostility. The rangers were having more trouble along the borders. Armies were put on standby. Rulers forged alliances. Rumours about orcs attacking villages were floating around and managed to throw even the most isolated towns into a state of distress. It was as if a threatening, dark cloud was hanging above middle earth.

It was astonishing how much could change in seven years. Harry was now eighteen. He'd lessened his training-efforts after he'd suffered an emotional and physical breakdown when he was fifteen. Neither his mind nor his body had been able to comprehend his expanded attention to his magic after he'd seen his magical core in a somehow physical form. If you know how something looks, then you will be able to change and manipulate it easier – that had been Harry's philosophy. He was proved right as it was much easier for him to get a grip on his magic after he'd been able to imagine what he was doing, though this act didn't lessen the energy that performing the magic took up. After his breakdown, Mithrandir had tried to explain him a little more about magic. Magic was a little like a muscle. The more you used it, the more endurance it possessed and using it would eventually become easier. But if you strained a muscle too much it would cause damage - like a torn muscle fibre. It was the same with magic.

Harry really appreciated the explanation even though it had been a little too late at that point. But he had learned his lesson and didn't want to go through that ever again. It had taken him about half a year to recover fully. Looking back, he knew when he should have stopped and how much less he should have done in order to not break down. Because feeling like shi… err – feeling bad is not something you will willingly bring to yourself if you know how to avoid it. So, Harry's training became less and he didn't spend every free minute working anymore. This, though, did not mean he stopped his training with Estel. As soon as he was given the permission to do so, he was outside again with his training-sword in hand, waiting for Estel to return from his latest adventure.

Soon he was going to reach an advanced level of his training. On the first day of March, when the snow was mostly gone, they would set out. Harry had dreamt of this day ever since he was introduced to Estel – no, ever since he'd heard about the rangers. He was going to go with Estel. Harry was going to accompany the ranger as he patrolled along the borders.

Now, as it was one day before they would head off, Harry was packing a relatively small bag Estel had given him. One set of extra clothes, a copy of his favourite picture of his parents – he'd made it all by himself. Magic was such a wonderful thing – a small pot, a little bit of paper, ink, and a quill. He was just stuffing an extra jacket into the bag when someone knocked softly on the door. Harry didn't look up or say anything. He didn't need to. He knew only one person who knocked like that. She wouldn't need an answer.

"You are really going?"

He could hear the resignation in Maechenebil's voice. He smiled and looked up in her sad face.

"Yes, but do not worry. I am going to come back."

He always been closer to Maechenebil than to the others, something that was intensified after he broke down. He'd been assigned to help in the gardens – gardening was calming for the soul, as his grandfather had said. Maechenebil was told to look over him. She took her task very seriously. Before he knew it, she was not only his supervisor but also his shoulder to cry on, berating him when he crossed any lines, and cheering him up when he was feeling depressed. At first, it had been a little irritating and confusing to have someone mothering and fussing over him, but somehow it also felt really good. Not that his Dad wasn't wonderful and the best dad he could have wished for, but he was just that: a Dad. He'd never had something like a mum. He didn't Maechenebil call 'mum' though, because that would be a little too much and could create a rather awkward atmosphere between her and his Dad.

"Are you sure that you have everything? Do you need any help?"

"I am pretty sure I have everything I need. Just a trip to the kitchen tomorrow and I will be as ready as I shall ever be."

"You've grown so fast… can't you be the little boy I used to tell bedtime-stories again? I didn't have to worry about you so much back then. It would've been at least thirty two years until you were so… so grown up if you were an elf."

She looked lost in her thoughts, so Harry used the silence to turn back to his Bag. He was ready. Taking deep breath to calm the upcoming excitement, he closed his eyes for a second. He was ready for this. He had trained for this since he was seven years old. He was prepared. There was nothing to fear. He knew how to deal with Orcs and Wargs. He knew how to survive in case he was separated from Estel. He knew how to battle. He knew how to include his magic in battle. He knew everything Estel had taught him by heart. Why did he feel so afraid then? Was this a bad sign? What if everything ended in a disaster? What if he forgot everything he learned under stress?

The feeling of a small hand on his cheek made him open his eyes again. Maechenebil smiled sadly at him again. She stood on tiptoes and still had to bring his head down a bit in order to give him a soft kiss on his forehead.

"I'm sure everything will be alright. You will scare all those evil things to death."

Harry laughed, his worries a little eased, his doubts safely locked away in the back of his mind.

"Of course, Maechenebil, everything you say."

She captured him in a bone breaking hug. She held him close for a few seconds and then let him go. When Harry was finally able to breathe again, her smile was a little less sad and her expression was a little less worried.

"I wanted to fetch you. Dinner is about to start. Come on, you need a nice meal – oh, and don't you dare staying up late! You need to be up early tomorrow. We don't want you falling asleep on your way!"

Harry chuckled a bit but tagged along. That was his Maechenebil – always fussing and mothering him. But that was her and Harry loved her anyway.

 

* * *

 

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

 

* * *

 

Despite Maechenebil's warning, Harry didn't go to sleep early. Now, in the morning, he seriously regretted it. But he just hadn't been able to sleep. He'd felt like a rabbit on a sugar high where the mere thought of closing his eyes had seemed like an impossible task. Now, he stood tiredly in front of a mirror and routinely hid his daggers under various articles of clothing. A knock on the door jerked him out of his drowsy state.

"Is it already time?"

"Nearly."

The tense edge in his Dad's voice concerned Harry, despite his half asleep status.

"Is everything okay, dad?"

"Yes. I'm just worried, but I'm your dad and parents always worry. Nothing out of the ordinary."

"I'm sure I'll manage everything."

"I know. You are very good. I just wish you would have stayed a kid for a little longer."

Harry smiled softly at his Dad's attempts to look not worried.

"You do. But sometimes you find out things that make you grow up. Sometimes you have no other choice."

His Dad shook his head sadly.

"Yes, but you could have talked to me about everything. You could have told me what you heard. Maybe you had a choice and just didn't see it."

Harry was silent for a few moments, wondering what his life would have been like if he had either never heard of the prophecy or if he'd told someone about it. But he just couldn't help but think that he had made the right decision. Everyone who knew about it would either pity or worry him. He despised both options.

"I don't think so, Dad."

The blonde elf nodded with sad eyes and hugged him.

"Originally, I had come to say goodbye, so here I am. Goodbye and good luck, son. I believe in you."

Harry smiled. His Dad believed in him. Maybe that was all he needed. He was not going to let him down. He was going to make them all proud. His Dad, Maechenebil, his parents by blood, and Estel. Trying to put all sincerity he could muster in his voice, he said softly, "Thanks."

They let go of each other and Harry grabbed his bag and bow.

"You are going down to the kitchens?"

It was more a statement than a question, but Harry answered anyway.

"Yep. Need to fetch my provisions."

"Do you want some company?"

Harry grinned and nodded before heading for the door. He tripped over a small chair and hit his knee at the edge of his bed in the process… by the Valar, there was no way he would ever stay up this late again!

 

* * *

 

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

 

* * *

 

Half an hour later, Estel was leading a half asleep Harry through Mirkwood forest at a very fast pace. Their speed shouldn't bother Harry though. Estel liked to chase him around the forest after they finished their sword training. A little fast walking should be nothing against that. Harry's words, slightly slurred, broke the silence.

"So… where are we going to go first?"

"Didn't we talk about that just before we headed off? And yesterday? And the day before yesterday and the whole moth before that?"

"Oh, yes, right. Elrond's place and then the northern borders of the Shire. Right."

Estel smirked a little but said nothing. Harry had to be very sleep-deprived if he forgot about those conversations.

"And… why are we going to Rivendell again?"

"Just think a bit. I might have mentioned something about that sometime in the past few years. Once, twice, maybe even all the time when we spoke of family?"

"Ohh. Yes, right. You were raised by the elves there. Right. Sorry, forgot that."

Harry sounded as if he'd just solved the greatest mystery of all time. By the Valar, that boy was not working well without sleep.

"Sure you have."

"Yes, yes. But... will we get to see Halflings?"

"Well they live in the Shire. We'll need to cross it in order to get to the borders so – yes. We will."

"Oh. Great."

"Sure."

"Estel?"

"Yes?"

"When are we going to take a break?"

"Not until noon. We're walking barely for quarter an hour."

"But that's very long, isn't it? For a fly, it has certainly been a very long time, hasn't it?"

"Harry?"

"Yes Estel?"

"Shut up."

It went on like that for two days – apart from Harry's questioning. That stopped after a good night's sleep. They reached the edge of the woods after a daw and as the second day neared its end, they decided to take a little break in the small village.

 

* * *

 

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

 

* * *

 

Smiling brightly to conceal his uneasiness, Harry made his way through the small but crowded marketplace of the little town. He didn't like crowds. In fact, Harry absolutely despised loud, pushing and shoving gatherings of humans. He'd never liked them and he would never come to like them. But he still had to get through this. This was the last village before they'd have to cross the Misty Mountains. The last chance to eat something fresh and tasty for about two weeks. Their stockings of lembas had been left for the difficult part: the very mountainy part. In the forest, they had hunted their everyday meals on the land, in the sky, and in the water in order to not eat the lembas. Now, Harry did his best to ignore the people surrounding him and instead tried to focus on the delicious smells that were invading his nose from all sides.

One very persistent and most delicious smell caught his attention: fresh currant bread. The thought of his favourite, warm, soft food made his mouth water. Signalling Estel who stood nearby next to a butcher's market stall and receiving a nod in return, Harry made his way in the direction where his nose led him.

A small queue stood waiting in front of the booth. Everyone was declaring loudly and simultaneously what he or she wanted. Harry was suddenly very happy that he wouldn't have to see this place again for at least two months. Humans in marketplaces were very tiring. With a small sigh, Harry dived right into the crowd-queue-mix. He waited patiently until the woman behind the counter had served everyone who had been there before Harry. He also didn't hesitate to 'accidentally' bump rudely into those who tried to push to the front.

It was an act of patience. Patience wasn't something he was good at, had never been good at. But he had something to occupy himself with: watching the woman behind the counter. She wasn't old, about seventeen from what he saw. Long black hair that was held back by a scarf around her head, a few freckles spread over her face, and light blue eyes. Harry had to admit she was pretty. Not a breath-taking beauty like the elves but still pretty. And he couldn't bring himself to think of the elves in that way. They were beautiful, yes, but they had also seen him grow up and somehow everybody seemed to have changed his nappy at some time – he couldn't think of a better mood-killer than that. Well, now, back to the present: pretty bakery-woman.

As it was finally his turn, he flashed her his most charming smile and watched delightedly as she blushed slightly.

"Hello. What can I do for you, Sir?"

Was there a seductive undertone in her voice?

"Do you have currant bread?"

"Yes Sir, how much would you like?"

Yes, there was definitely something flirty in her voice.

"Two slices please. I'm Harry, by the way."

No shame in flirting back now, is there? She flashed him a bright smile, still a light blush on her cheeks.

"Maura. Two slices of currant bread for you, Harry."

Harry paid and took the bread, winked, and left in the direction he had come from. He found Estel fairly quick, seeing how many people were here. The man was standing in the shadows of a narrow alley with a knowing smirk on his face.

"What?"

Harry felt his face heating up and took a bite out of his bread as an excuse to say nothing.

"You chose the wrong one, Harry. See? There?"

Harry turned to look in the direction Estel was pointing and coughed. A man had walked up behind the woman, gave her a kiss on the forehead (one which she clearly did not enjoy) and gave her a small child that she lifted up (and she clearly did enjoy that). Okay… he had just flirted with a married woman who was also a mother and didn't seem to be older than him. Weird.

"Bad luck, I suppose."

"Yes. You, little Harry, have no luck with women."

Refraining from answering, Harry glared playfully at Estel and punched his arm lightly. Just because he had a few very short and painful — slaps really hurt, try to avoid them — relationships in Esgaroth when he was sixteen didn't mean he was a useless case. He had lived down there for a few months in the inn that was the Golden Dragon. His Dad hadn't liked to let him do that but Estel insisted, pointing out that Harry become more independent.

"Any more plans for today?"

"No. I'm done with people for today."

"Wow, Harry, that's new. Just for today?"

"Nah. Probably for at least a year. But I won't get the pleasure of so much time."

"Too right. Now, let's go looking for a place to sleep."

 

* * *

 

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

 

* * *

 

They set up a small camp at the shores of the Anduin river. It had already been pretty late when they arrived in the village and sunset had arrived fast. Now, the night was dark — only a two days after new moon. It was only a few minutes to midnight by the time Harry laid on the ground, his bag used as pillow and his warm blanket draped over him. Estel had the first watch. Every night they would sleep like that. Estel took the first shift and Harry the second. Harry had no problem with getting up early. It could be 3 am and he would be as awake as any other person would be at 3pm, at least when he'd gone to bed to a reasonably time. But staying up late — no, not with Harry. Unless of course, you wanted to have a totally useless, annoying, dead weight the next morning. Given the fact that Estel preferred staying up late, the two of them were the perfect match.

While waiting patiently for his well-earned sleep to claim him, Harry let his thoughts drift. What would it be like when they finally arrived at their destination? Would there be many fights? Would he finally be able to really, truly help? He felt adventurous. Just thinking about finally being able to physically do something to help made him want to jump up and walk through the night. But he knew this was stupid. Even though his magic could help him through this, he cannot stay awake forever. His magic could help him if he was really exhausted, as if he was sustained on his magical energy instead of his physical strength. It was really useful when he was completely drained in a duel or physical exercise. He often tried to see his magical core in a visible form again, but his successes had been few and far between. Only three times had he been able to get to the point where he'd been at his first time. He really wanted to see it again. Harry was still curious about the dark patch on his — as he figured out — soul. But sadly, he couldn't find anything about it in Mirkwood's library. Not being able to achieve anything — neither through his mind nor through research — peeved him greatly. That must have been beginner's luck. Just like the animal-form. After that one night of meditating, when he had gotten himself a tail, he hadn't accomplished anything regarding the skin-changing. Nothing. Nothing at all in the seven years he had tried. His frustration about the lack of progress wasn't particularly helping either. The more frustrated he got, the further away from success he felt and the further from success he felt, the more frustrated he became. It was a doom loop.

Turning around so he lay on his back, Harry looked at the stars. Were his parents somewhere up there? His past? He didn't think about the world he left behind as a toddler. He couldn't really remember anything. Just glimpses of impressions had remained. Red hair was always comforting, stags were protecting. It didn't help too much when he was trying to imagine the old world, as he liked to call it. Harry sighed. It was no good to dwell in the past when you had all the wonderful adventures and tasks lying right in front of you.

Stars fascinated the elves, especially his dad, and Harry loved the little light points, too. There was so much space up there, so much unexplored things. Looking up there made him feel free and very small at the same time. He was just another boy under thousands of boys. If he hadn't been here, nothing would have been different. Well, at least nothing important. The ink-black sky seemed to become even darker and threateningly sent a few clouds to cover the stars he had been staring at. Suddenly, he couldn't stand to look up at the sky without feeling his chest tighten. He was nothing. If he had never arrived here, or if he should die, the time would just go on, never pausing, never stopping. Like a waterfall.

He watched the river instead. Quietly gurgling, always going and never stopping until it found its destination in the sea. Harry wished he knew where his destination lay. It would be comforting to know if he had such a clear aim as the Anduin's water. But sadly, he didn't. Harry turned around once again, finally feeling drowsy enough to sleep.

"Harry!"

Estel's harsh shout jerked him awake again. Harry was up on his feet in seconds. He knew that tone in Estel's voice. There was something serious and very dangerous going on somewhere.

"I'm here and awake, what's the matter?"

"Look. The village."

Harry turned to gaze in the direction of the town and held his breath. It was engulfed in flames. Dark silhouettes were swarming around. Harry didn't hesitate a second. Grabbing his bow, quiver, and his sword, he followed Estel towards the city. Excitement and an adventurous feeling flooded his veins together with adrenaline. The run blew every thought out of his head and let him focus solely on the upcoming battle. His first battle. Well, his first real battle. Every four years, there was a training-battle in Mirkwood to keep the soldiers sharp. One year ago, he'd been allowed to participate. Harry had fun. Really, it had been an exciting experience. Now he was going to show his skills by really helping people. As if on cue, Estel and Harry stopped.

The men in the city were doing their best to fight off the dark creatures – orcs – with everything they had. But the best intentions didn't help the men much as they were completely outnumbered and they had no idea how to deal with orcs. The citizens were reluctant to take lives. But you can't really stop an orc by trying to disarm them. That was a very bad idea.

'Go for the head!' Harry mentally screamed but they naturally didn't hear him. Looking towards Estel who nodded, they jumped up simultaneously and ran towards the turmoil, the deadly mix of men and orcs, with a determined cry. Subtlety wouldn't be much of a use here. While running they respectively took down three of the enemy with arrows. Six down. About a hundred remaining. Great, the fun would last a little longer. Grinning a little, he took out his short sword and a very small, barely visible but deadly, poisoned dagger in the other hand.

 

* * *

 

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

 

* * *

 

Harry turned, slashed, stabbed, punched and killed. He didn't think. His brain had switched off the thinking and turned on the instincts. Adrenaline was pumping through his veins and he barely registered the growing exhaustion, the aching muscles and his sore body. He fought with everything he had and after what seemed like a minute to his brain, a few days to his body and was in reality about three hours, the orcs withdrew. They hadn't won, they hadn't even managed to kill half of the orcs, but these creatures were cowards. Well, at least when doing something on their own accord. They only fought if they outnumbered their enemy, if their enemy wasn't prepared and if they were sure they would win. As soon as a few more orcs than expected were killed, the orcs got cold feet and fled.

Harry slowly sank to his knees and sat down after the last orc was gone. Taking a deep breath, he looked at his blade, the dark muddy orc-blood on it dripping to the floor. He looked around. Estel was not far away, nursing a man who had apparently lost his arm. Harry turned around, feeling slightly nauseated. Standing up with shaking legs, he looked around. Houses stood in flames, screams disrupted the night's usual silence, wounded people lay everywhere. Harry gulped. This wasn't glorious at all. This hadn't been fun at all. Slowly, he made his way through the battlefield, wincing as he tried to move his arm. Looking down, he saw a long gash all the way from his elbow to his shoulder. Why hadn't he noticed? The dagger he held in his left hand was tucked into his pocket. He couldn't remember putting it there. Harry saw everything as if through thick haze. He tripped over something. Getting up again, his eyes searched the floor. His heart stopped for a moment. Maura. Her pretty blue eyes were staring lifeless into the sky, a glassy look in them. She held her child's hand, a daughter with the same dark hair as her. Harry turned around, feeling very, very sick. He made a few steps before he couldn't bear it anymore and threw up.

Battle wasn't glorious.

Battle wasn't fun.

Battle wasn't exciting.

Battle wasn't an adventure.

It was war. Horrible war.

Harry straightened up and wiped his mouth. If he could believe Lady Galadriel, he was able to stop this. And he would stop this. Maybe he couldn't stop battles from happening, but he would do his best to stop innocent people from dying.

He turned to Maura again. He knelt down next to her and gently closed her eyelids. He went to do the same with her daughter, but her eyes were already closed. What? Eyes don't close on their own after death—they remain open. Did that mean…? Yes, he could see it. The little girl was shivering. If he wasn't looking for it, he wouldn't have seen it, but she was shivering. He touched her shoulder as gently as he could. She didn't move.

"Hey. The bad creatures are gone. Come, don't you want to see if we can find your Daddy?"

Harry spoke as softly as he could. He held his breath when she failed to respond. Then, after a few tense seconds, she opened her eyes. They were the same blue as her mother's.

"What's happnd to my mummy?"

"She has gone to a better place where she can always watch you. My parents are there too."

The girl stared up wide eyed at him.

"Really? When's mummy comin back?"

"She won't come back. But she will always be with you. Don't you feel her?"

Harry summoned his magic and created a soft, warm breeze to engulf the girl. He let the wind glitter a little so she would see something.

"That's mummy?"

"Yes. See, she's there, even if you can't see her."

The little girl stretched out an arm, as if to touch the breeze. Her eyes shining a little.

"Now, shall we go and look for your daddy?"

She nodded but said nothing. She was looking up into the stars. Her eyes had lost the shine again and looked dull and sad. Harry helped her up and too her into his arms. The little girl snuggled a little closer to him but did not look away from the stars. Harry walked back to the middle of the village, where the most people were gathered.

"I'm Harry. Can you tell me your name?"

Still not looking at him, she answered with barely a whisper.

"Ines."

"Okay, now, don't be frightened. I will shout now so we can see if your daddy hears me, okay?"

She nodded into his shoulder. Harry took a deep breath and began yelling so everyone could hear him.

"Does anyone have a child named Ines?"

A few seconds, there was nothing. Then:

"Yes! Yes, here. Where is Maura?"

The little girl turned around and, for the first time since Harry talked to her, didn't look at the stars.

"Mummy is gone. She's in a better place where she can watch me, Daddy."

Ines even smiled a little, though it didn't reach her eyes. The man limped towards them. Harry frowned. This wasn't the man he had seen with Maura.

"That's your daddy?"

"Yes. That's my nice daddy."

"Your nice daddy? Do you have another one?"

"Yes, but he isn't nice. But mummy had to live with him 'cause he paid for her. He isn't nice to mummy and me."

"Okay, Ines. Here we go, do you want to be held by your Daddy?"

"Only by the nice one."

"Yes, he's the only one here."

Harry let her down on the floor so she could walk towards the man. But she didn't. Instead, she turned around and hugged him around his knees.

"Can you come stay here, Harry?"

Harry smiled a little and knelt down so he could look into her eyes.

"No, Ines, I have my own home and I have a family, too."

"Can you visit me then?"

"If you want me to. I'll visit you."

"Tomorrow?"

"No. I'd going far away, but I will come back in a few months, then I will visit you."

"Promise?"

"Yes. I promise you as your friend."

She hugged him again, a small smile playing on her lips and then turned to run to her 'nice Daddy'.

Harry made his way to Estel, who was done nursing the man with the lost arm. He sat down next to his trainer. The two of the sat in silence. Listening to the dying fire around them and the chatter of the survivors. Ines waved a few times and even came to hug him goodbye. She was adorable. It was Estel who broke the silence.

"Maybe, you have luck with women after all."

"What makes you say this?"

"The little girl. Quite a pretty one, eh?"

Harry could hear the smirk in Estel's voice. He playfully smacked the back of his trainer's head.

"Pervert."

"No, I can see it now. In eighteen years: the dream wedding…"

"Yes, with someone who is not me as groom. I will be sitting in the front row though."

"Of course you will."

Then they were silent again. They didn't speak when they got up and returned to their camp. They didn't speak when they both lay down to sleep. They didn't speak when they both couldn't sleep.

* * *

 

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it, thanks for the comments, kudos, etc. ^^


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains torture

* * *

 

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

 

* * *

 

Pain. Pain everywhere. Pain was the first thing she noticed when she slowly regained consciousness. Hot, agonising pain that drove her mad. Her blood was boiling, her bones were being broken, crushed, repaired and crushed again, tiny needles ripped open every inch of her skin and her insides were being frozen and burned at the same time. She didn't like it. Why was there pain?

Laughter was the next thing that reached her senses. There was someone who could help her, make the pain stop! But the voice was laughing. Why was there somebody laughing when she was in pain?

Suddenly, the pain left. No pain. Just a little cold now. She shivered. She could feel every inch of her body. Her hands, feet, head and all the other important parts were still there. A good sign. She was lying on something hard cold and slightly damp. She could feel her body shivering again. But, whose body was this?

Her senses came back fully now. She had eyes! Should she open them? Yes, she could remember laughter. Laughter meant fun. She liked fun. Fun was painless. Yes, opening her eyes seemed like a good idea. With great effort, she managed to lift her eyelids.

It was very dark. The only thing lightening the room was a stick with blueish light radiating from its tip. It wasn't very bright though. There was only one other person standing in the room and this person was holding the stick. It was a woman in a long black dress with a corset. The woman was showing much too much cleavage for her taste, but it was that woman's body thus not hers to decide. The woman had long curly black hair, heavy eyelids and slightly creepy smile on her face. The woman took one step towards her. A loud 'click' could be heard as the woman's high heeled boots connected with the stone-floor.

A bad feeling rose in her as the woman continued to walk towards her and that creepy smile on the woman's face got even bigger. She didn't know if she wanted to laugh now. The woman didn't seem to like the same kind of laughing as her. The woman's smile didn't look like fun at all. The woman's smile looked insane. It made the woman look like a maniac. Like a creepy child who just got a wonderful, deadly birthday-present. Like the woman was here to have fun now. But that fun wasn't going to be fun for anyone but the woman.

The woman laughed again. Well, cackled would be a better name for what the woman was doing. The woman looked like a predator advancing his prey. She decided that she didn't like the woman. The woman didn't look fun. The woman opened her mouth again but this time she didn't laugh.

"Don't worry, ickle reddikins. The spell will wear off in no time and we can have fun all day. Doesn't that sound great luv?"

Now the woman cackled again. She shivered violently. Why did her head suddenly feel so clouded? She felt like… like… something in her mind was trying to push itself towards the surface. Like a drowning man who was trying to get through thick ice. Then the drowning man found a hole in the ice. Her eyes grew wide and she tried to stand up as fast as she could. She got to her feet fairly quickly judged by the amount of time she had spent on that floor. How many days had it been? Four? Five? A week? She looked around frantically. No luck. The only way out was past that woman. And she was chained to the dungeon wall. Just great. Straightening, she turned around and glared her best death-glare at the woman she despised most. The most powerful woman in the British Empire. Sadly it was not the queen. It was Lord Voldemort's right hand. His most loyal follower. His unofficial mistress.

And Bellatrix Lestrange didn't glare back. She just laughed again and raised her wand.

"How about a little more fun, luv? No? Yes? Well, sweetie, you don't need to answer, I won't listen anyways, but you could always avoid it and become one of us?"

She glared at Bellatrix with even more hate and if looks could kill, Lord Voldemort would have to look for another toy. She tried to put all the loathing and hatred she had gathered over the years into her voice as she spat back her answer.

"Over my dead body."

"Oh", Bellatrix sounded delighted. "I think we can arrange that, Ginevra."

 

* * *

 

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

 

* * *

 

Ginny Weasley always felt well cared for. After all, she was the little baby sister to six older brothers. Yes, it was tough at times, but she still loved her family to bits and was always loved back. Between the twin's pranks, Ron's jealousy, Percy's obsession with career and Charlie being away in Romania Ginny didn't have the luxury of being a cliché 'girlie'. She didn't mind though. She was perfectly fine with having only one female friend. Luna was a little weird at times but that was Luna. Ginny's only female friend became very closed off when her mother died though. That was also when she told her about the wackspurts and such for the first time. Luna's father Xenophilius liked to keep her around since Pandora's death and Ginny didn't get the chance to see her only female friend very often the next few years.

She grew closer to Bill instead. Bill was often in Egypt, but they became some sort of pen pals. Ginny felt closer to him than to any of her other brothers. The twins and Charlie were also pretty close but they still saw the small baby-sister in her. Bill made it sound like she could accomplish everything. He made her feel special.

Then there was Sirius. Ever since Ginny had found the huge black dog in the backyard, the two of them were close. At the age of four she didn't even think of the possibility that her funny black dog would be the 'highly dangerous', newly escaped convict. It was purely on accident that anything changed this. Percy had come back from his first year at Hogwarts. All the attention was on him. Nobody noticed that she took Scrabbers out for a walk - the poor rat had been in a cage for the whole train ride after all. She would've never thought that her 'cute little doggie' would grab Scrabbers with his mouth and run away.

Two months later, Professor Dumbledore came through the floo, announcing that Scrabbers had been the very much alive Peter Pettigrew and that Sirius Black was innocent. Her parents should please take him in until he could get a trial – nobody with a sane mind would expect him to be at the Burrow of all places. It was the same night that Ginny found him as she came back from secret flying-practice, and ever since, they often sat together in the kitchen, late at night with a cup of tea. That night, Ginny found out he didn't sleep very well since Azkaban and Sirius found out about her sneaking out to play Quidditch. Since that day Sirius was the person she would go to when she had problems. They sat together many nights, sometimes talking, sometimes silent and became very close. He was something like her honorary uncle-friend-father-mix. Even after he moved into his own home he was her shoulder to cry on. In return she would help him get over his nightmares and guilt.

Ginny Weasley always felt loved. She had wonderful friends. Sometimes she wanted nothing but to be back in her childhood. But just as often, she wished her childhood would have been entirely different.

Her Parents had joined the order of the phoenix as soon as there was sign of the chaos that would soon break down the ministry's 'perfect peace' after Voldemort's disappearance. It all started when news got out about Harry Potter. The Boy had not been there where he was supposed to be, when someone checked on him. He had in fact apparently never even arrived. Her mother had been outraged at the thought of leaving a Baby on someone's doorstep in the middle of the night and refused to talk to Dumbledore for four months full. Of course Ginny had been too young to truly understand everything that happened back then, but when she heard that the hero of her bedtime-stories had disappeared, she had of course cried - she had only been four after all. Harry Potter's disappearance had also been Sirius motivation to escape Azkaban. The (at that time) high security prisoner had read about it in the newspaper he had - Merlin knew how - obtained. The boy-who-lived's disappearance had been the first setback in the wizarding world's new perfect peace.

It was only a few month later that the peace was disrupted once again: The villages Spinners End, little Whinging and Godric's hollow were burnt down. Not a single house was left standing. Not a single citizen had survived. The death eaters were celebrating a comeback. After all, there was no Harry Potter anymore - who they were apparently afraid of. As ridiculous as the idea of a super-powered five year old boy single-handedly defeating all the remaining Death eaters may have sounded, that was what this terror-organization had feared. No wonder they were following the dark lord – in order to believe something like that you had to be really thick.

The actual catastrophe happened one year before Ginny went to Hogwarts. Voldemort lived a whole year as a parasite on the back of a professor's head. At the end of the year, he managed to steal the philosopher's stone. The dark lord was back. The order of the phoenix was called together immediately. Precautionary, Grimmauldplace 12, Sirius's childhood home and one of the most protected houses in Great Britain – apart from Hogwarts of course – was magically extended. Grimmauldplace's basement went down nearly as deep as the Ministry of magic after its renovation. Every member of the order would be able to move in, in case of emergency.

During these restorations, Dumbledore tried to make Voldemort's resurrection known. To the order's and Dumbledore's shock, the ministry and the Daily Prophet had already been full of Voldemort's men all the time since he'd vanished, ready to serve in case the Dark lord would one day rise again. Well, as Voldemort did just that, they were all busy ruining Dumbledore's reputation and credibility. Rita Skeeter, though no death eater, had been all too happy about starting a weekly column in the prophet, solely about Dumbledore's mistakes. It didn't even take the whole summer holidays to make the wizarding world believe the propaganda. To Britain's wizards and witches, the once highly valued leader of the light was soon nothing more but a senile liar.

How wrong they were.

Since no more attacks happened that summer, her parents thought it safe to send her to Hogwarts. Nobody noticed her new dairy. Nobody noticed her writing the nice, understanding Tom Riddle about her prat of a brother Ron, the twins that were too busy to notice her and the too-important-to-care-for-her perfect Percy. She unconsciously managed to fight the power he gained over her most of the year and somehow got the Basilisk to only petrify – and not kill - students. But at the end of the year, Tom broke her. The Basilisk found its way into the Hufflepuff dorms. The Ravenclaw dorms. The Gryffindor dorms. Even the Slytherin dorms. By the time the sun rose that day, the school truly only consisted of purebloods, a few half-bloods and Ginny who was left in the chamber of secrets to die there. The headmaster – Dumbledore's only title now – was left to discover the blood-bath in the morning, unable to do anything about the horror that came over the school that night. Due to his helplessness, he was determined to safe the only student that could be saved at that point. With the help of Fawkes, his phoenix, he found Ginny, destroyed the Diary and slayed the Basilisk.

Albus Dumbledore was destined to never leave the chamber of secrets.

Phoenix tears could have healed a venomous bite, but the in order to slay the basilisk one had to get into its mouth – the skin was impenetrable. Ginny would never forget the sound of Gryffindor's sword cutting through the basilisk's palate and skull or the following gut wrenching 'crack' as the headmaster's spine and neck were shattered. Fawkes dragged her and the corpse of the leader of the light back to the surface. The phoenix flamed away and wasn't seen again. The only reason Ginny wasn't sent to Azkaban was Ron. Her stupid noble loyal git of an overprotective loving brother. Oh, how much she loved him. He broke into the defence teachers' office and flooed her to Grimmauldplace 12. He had already dragged Hermione Granger's stone-body there. She was a muggleborn and really clever. She and Ron had become friends after a while when Professor McGonagall assigned her as Ron's tutor to help him with his abysmal grades.

When they arrived at Grimmauldplace, hell broke loose. The order's leader dead. Half the Hogwarts pupils' slayed. The minister dead. The ministry fallen. There were all kinds of so called reformations. The Muggleborn were given the lowest, most humiliating jobs. The half-bloods got the jobs too well for Muggleborn and below a Pureblood. Both groups were treated worse than the lowest house-elf. But if they wanted to keep their jobs - and their lives - they had to keep quiet. Suddenly everyone Ginny knew and loved was outlawed. 1000 Galleons price on their heads, dead or alive. The order of the phoenix became something like a swearword outside the headquarters. She and all the other kids weren't allowed to go outside and the adults only went under polyjuice potion maximum one time a day each.

The daily prophet only wrote the death eater's propaganda. What started as very subtle but snide side-comments soon became guides about how to spot and kill a muggle. At first, also none of the attacks happening were reported in the daily prophet. But after a while, news about 'glorious wins against the mudbloods' became more frequent. Harry Potter became a legend, a horror story to scare little children. High ranked Death eaters were celebrated like Quidditch-stars and Voldemort himself was like a myth. Letting himself be surrounded by mysteries, never personally showing up anywhere, only talking to high ranked death eaters managed to get him a god-like reputation.

Her first year at Hogwarts had changed Ginny Weasley. The crush she had on Harry potter, the faith that he would come someday to be her knight in the shining armour on a white horse burst like a bubble. The reassuring believe that adults like Dumbledore and her parents would always come and be able to fix everything vanished into nothingness. It was Sirius who managed to snap her out of depression. It was Sirius who sat with her late at night because she couldn't sleep. It was Sirius who put an alarm spell on her bed to come whenever she had a nightmare and couldn't go back to sleep afterwards. It was Sirius who got her to talk over everything. It was Sirius who helped her dealing with the guilt and the pain.

"I failed James. I failed Lily. I failed Harry. I won't fail you too, Red."

Red. Her so-called marauder name. He told her she had to have one. She was after all something like his honorary daughter-niece-friend-mix. She loved the name. It was simple and a little cliché, but it told her she was accepted. She belonged somewhere. Because she didn't feel like she belonged to her family anymore. Too much had happened that set them apart. They would never understand, no matter how hard they tried. She had seen Tom Riddle's, Lord Voldemorts thoughts and plans from when he was sixteen… Nobody could comprehend what she had gone through. Her father's sad eyes and her mother's desperate attempts to baby her, meant that they had noticed too.

Together with Sirius, she started to leave her childhood behind. Her fun loving, joking and pranking self was dragged more and more into the background. Sirius was her trainer. He got her books whenever he managed to get on outside-duty. He taught her how to duel in his every free minute, they went to the shrieking shack, because Hogwarts was still a school and the ministry wasn't monitoring the trace there. She was there when the Professors McGonagall, Flitwick and Sprout held their lessons for all the kids in the headquarters, but Sirius taught her the lessons of life. How to survive in case the headquarters should fall. How to get out of duel against a superior alive. How to run away without being caught. How to cheat properly. How to bribe with little to give. How to become an Animagus.

Sirius had nearly burst with pride when she had managed to change into her leopard-form for the first time when she was fourteen. She'd been a lot faster than the marauders, he'd told her.

Sirius would never let her down.

 

* * *

 

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

 

* * *

 

The pain was back. Back with full force and it tried to take her. To cloud her mind forever. It seemed welcoming, the thick fog that threatened to blur her mind. But she knew that the fog wouldn't go away once it was in her mind. And she didn't want to end up like Neville's parents. She wanted to stay sane. But the fog, the sweet oblivion - NO! She couldn't give in. She couldn't. She couldn't think. She distantly heard a scream somewhere. She should get up and help the person who screamed, but she couldn't do anything. She felt something rolling underneath her and tearing at her ankles and wrists. The pain was still there. Why wouldn't it just go away? Make it go away! She'd do anything. Anything…

"Really? Anything luv?"

The pain had stopped. It took Ginny a few moments to notice that the scream was coming from her mouth and there wasn't anything pulling her ankles and wrists but it was her trashing against her chains.

"Would you tell me where my sweet cousin currently is? The ol' doggie needs a little action in his life wouldn't you say, luv?"

"Never!"

"Hm. Pity. You know, for a blood traitor you actually look acceptable. The Boys upstairs could have a lot of fun with you. Wouldn't you like that sweetheart? Someone who's a little more man than that Longbottomy kid?"

"Neville is more man than any of those Death eaters will ever be!"

"Ah, Ah, Ah. Should I let you keep that illusion?"

Ginny glared at Bellatrix and struggled against her chains again. She needed to get free!

"How do I say it? Ah, yes, it's even a rhyme: Yes, No, Crucio!"

And it began again.

 

* * *

 

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

 

* * *

 

When Ginny wasn't training or learning, she tried to be a girl. She gossiped with Hannah and Susan, painted her nails with Padma and Parvati, altered her clothes with Hermione's simple glamour charms, read magazines and had a boyfriend. Neville was really kind and grew to be very brave. They broke up when she was sixteen after a two-year long relationship. They were both of the opinion they were better off as friends. She was really happy for Neville who had found love with Hannah Abbot. They had started their real education, their duelling lessons and everything you needed to know in a fight against death eaters, as soon as they were seventeen in order to not get detected by the trace.

Many refugees came to the phoenix headquarters and thankfully, there was enough space. Only the youngest had to either share a room with their parents or another two children. Everything worked out fine. Ginny loved to watch everyone interact in the common-room. The room was inspired by all the four common rooms at Hogwarts. Black leather armchairs on green carpets, comfy red couches in front of fireplaces, cream coloured settees with blue blankets and yellow-black striped hassocks on the floor. It was a very homely atmosphere. Not very surprising, considering that was the only place they all had left. Their houses had most likely been burnt or robbed. Many of them were here because they hadn't been careful enough and authority figures had got to hear about them criticizing something. If that happened, the order either got a tip from one of their spies or the family vanished. That happened often enough and no one liked to talk about it. Those families just got to bed and never woke up. In the morning, their houses were empty, no sign of a family that could have lived there and a 'For Sale'- sign standing in front of it. Nobody knew where the families were taken, but most people thought they were killed.

Even muggles were living here now. Voldemort's reign of terror had reached their world only a few months after the ministry's fall. Muggle-Hunting was a popular sport now. The order had managed to disrupt a few of those events but most of them weren't even noticed.

The headquarters harboured many people now. Sadly, bathrooms were a rarity. They had already expanded them to be for many people at once but the Bathroom-schedule was still always very full. Somehow they managed, but you couldn't just take a long bath after a hard day or something like that.

The kitchen was always busy. Two groups of volunteers cooked meals for everyone three times a day. They rotated so that every two days the group changed. Ginny's mother was chef of one. She chose the recipes, assigned respective tasks and interfered whenever problems came up. The food was very good and tasty but they had to cook for many people with little material so the food had to be duplicated once it was ready. It lost aroma and got a little dry in the process. The original food which usually had left most of its taste was given to the smallest children. No one complained. Everyone was happy to have food at all.

 

* * *

 

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

 

* * *

 

Ginny heard her own scream die as she slowly came back to the surface. She didn't know how much longer she could manage. She had been under the Cruciatus curse for about fifteen minutes with a few short brakes. She couldn't take much more before she would go insane. Oh, why had she insisted on going out? Why had she wanted to leave the headquarters at all? She was so stupid, assuming she was good enough to not get caught. What had she been thinking?

"Yes, ickle-gin-gin, you are very stupid. Now, would you like to tell me when my favourite cousin usually leaves the house?"

By now, Bellatrix was standing right in front of her. If Ginny had stuck out her tongue, it would have touched her. She could feel Bellatrix' breath against her skin and shuddered with disgust.

"Never." Ginny spat back at her. She coughed. Why was there blood in her mouth? She shouldn't feel dizzy. She should fight! Why was it suddenly so difficult to breathe? Ginny looked down. There was a knife in her chest. Why hadn't she noticed? Well, the Cruciatus curse did block out much of her other pain, but she should be feeling it now when the curse was lifted

"What did you do, you filthy-"

Bellatrix covered Ginny's mouth with her perfectly manicured hand.

"Ah, ah ah. We don't want such a language down here. It's a fine establishment, don't you think, luv?"

"What did you do to me?"

"Well, now. Where's the magic word?"

Ginny's jaw clenched. It took all her will to say the following words, but she had to know.

"My apologies. Could you please tell me, what you did to me, mam?"

"That's better, sweetheart. I knew you had the good English manners somewhere in your blood-traitor brain. I put a local numbing spell on your chest. The knife pierced your lungs. You should die soon, but, now we see how merciful I am. I have advised a few men to take care of the blood that will flood your lung. Every half hour they will come, vanish the blood in your lung and give you a blood replenishing potion. Isn't that wonderful, sweetheart?"

Ginny just glared at her.

"No? You don't like it, luv? Hmm. Then I may have to take away the numbing spell… pity."

Bellatrix looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Well, actually it's not a pity and I would have removed the spell either way, so your opinion doesn't really count. I hope that makes you feel a little better, luv."

Ginny glared at her, finding it harder and harder to breathe with every second.

"Oh, yes I nearly forgot."

Bellatrix took a few steps back and looked thoughtful at her cleavage.

"I think we should let the guys have a treat for keeping you alive, shouldn't we?"

With that, she ripped Ginny's t-shirt in half. Ginny's face burned. She wanted to go home. She wanted her mum. Why hadn't she said goodbye? Why hadn't she given her parents a kiss goodbye? Why had the last conversation she had with her mother been a fight about her clothes? Why not a simple 'okay, mum'? Or a simple 'you look good, Ginny'? Why? Why this?

"Aww, is ickle-gin-gin crying? Does she want her mummy? Or does she want her doggie? Auntie Bella has to go now, so I won't be able to comfort you. Just wait a few minutes. Goyle is the first to come down. He might be able to console you, my new toy. Bye Bye, luv!"

 

* * *

 

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

 

* * *

 

Ginny's great aim was to help the senior-order members. They were the ones to fight. A small group of rebels against the Death-eater regime. She wanted to be a part of that. But until she was seventeen, she wasn't able to do so. On the one hand because she was technically her father's property by the rules of the new government and on the other hand because she still had the trace on her. The order had tried many things to get rid of it but it was no use: magical law couldn't be broken. Just like the muggles couldn't break the law of physics. The magical laws were facts. The trace couldn't be covered, hidden, stopped, broken or bypassed. It was just there.

Ginny had to wait. Wait until she was seventeen. Sirius had already promised to take her out. If they got message of an attack somewhere in the UK, they would apparate there to fight. If the day was quiet, he could take her to typical teenager-place to do typical teenager things. She wanted him to take her to a tattoo studio. She had always admired the phoenix around his wrist. She wanted something like that. A phoenix or a Gryffindor-lion. It would be just one day and nobody needed to know about their little trip. Ginny had been anxious to get out of the headquarters. Every day was the same inside there. The headquarters and the shrieking shack where the only two places she had seen in six years. She couldn't wait to breathe a little fresh air!

 

* * *

 

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

 

* * *

 

It was so cold. Why did she have to dress like that? Why hadn't she taken a jacket? Okay, it was the middle of august and boiling hot outside but that was beside the point. Ginny shivered. Did these dungeons have to be so cold? Why was the silence in there so suffocating? Why was it silent at all? Shouldn't there be screams of other prisoners? Laughter of the death eater? The sound of rats running around? She couldn't stand silence. She never liked it. She constantly needed to be surrounded by a great amount of family and friends. It was always loud in the headquarters. There were so many people that silence was nearly impossible. Only the library up in the second floor was silent, because of the many silencing charms around it. It was Hermione's favourite place. Ginny despised the library because of it. Silence was unnatural. Silence suffocated joy.

So Ginny did the only thing that came to her mind: Break the silence. She opened her mouth and began to sing. Very quiet at first. The lullaby her mother had always sung to her. She didn't think she would remember it, but right now, every word was in her mind. It was strange really, how much comfort Ginny took from it. She became louder and louder. Savouring the sound of her voice echoing against the dungeon-walls. As if many people were singing. But when she stopped for a moment, the echo died away.

She didn't sing everything right. She was pretty sure that she had the melody wrong and some notes where so wrong they gave her Goosebumps. Ginny was sure she had never heard anything as wonderful as the lullaby.

 

* * *

 

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

 

* * *

 

When the great day – the day after her birthday – finally arrived, Ginny felt as excited as she hadn't felt in years. She made extra effort to look good and even applied some black colour around her eyes. Ginny brieflyconsidered asking Hermione for a skirt but that was too much for her liking. Jeans-shorts were better in case she got into a fight.

She sneaked downstairs when everyone else was at lunch. Sirius was already waiting for her, a slight smirk on his face and a bottle of polyjuice potion in his hand. He drowned the potion and changed into a slightly smaller, bald old man who looked just old enough to be her father. Ginny took a second bottle out of his hand and drank, too. When the order members where going out, the usually took the same form so the Muggeles around the place only saw a family leaving. A bald man that was currently Sirius' form, his blonde wife, two sons and a daughter who was currently Ginny's form. Nothing out of the ordinary.

 

* * *

 

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

 

* * *

 

Slowly, her singing stopped. It was increasingly painful to breathe and her throat was beginning to feel sore. The silence was back. Silence was not good. Silence was so silent. Ginny sighed. The sound echoed through the dungeon. Unable to sing or speak because of her throat, she began to quote anything in her head that she remembered. Passages of the movie she had watched together with Sirius, lyrics of old songs, the titles of every book she knew, the names of every _daily prophet_ reporter and every couple she knew of in the headquarters. She counted down from thousand in increments of 0.75. She recited the alphabet backwards, forwards and from her favourite to her least favourite letter.

A tear escaped her eye when she tried to remember every Weasley in existence, which was the most difficult thing she had yet tried in this dungeon. The single tear was joined quickly by a second one, a third, a fourth and Ginny didn't bother counting anymore but sobbed instead. She hadn't cried in a long time. Crying was useless and made her feel weak. But now, she couldn't help it. She felt so helpless, useless and unimportant as she lay here, one prisoner under thousands. Her family would never know how she died or if she died. They would never know. But their lives would go on. They would life on and time would heal their wounds. Eventually, they would forget. After one generation, nobody would know a Ginny Weasley. She would never have children. She wouldn't leave anything in this world apart from her material belongings. Nothing. Her family wouldn't have anything from her to mourn over, only the knowledge that they would never see her again. And Ginny would never see her family again. She would never hear her mother's annoying nagging, see her father's face light up as he talked about muggle-stuff, read Bill's soothing letters, hear Charlie talk lovingly about his dragons, endeavour Percy's stiff attitude, curse the twins for pranking her or tease Ron about his crush on Hermione. She wouldn't see anyone of them ever again. The last thing she would see in this world was Bellatrix Lestrange. Ginny sniffed. Bollocks.

 

* * *

 

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

 

* * *

 

As soon as Sirius and Ginny were out of sight, the two of them disapparated and popped up in a small village in south England. It didn't have many stores but it had a cinema. After two hours of 'Lost in space', much popcorn and a discussion about Sirius' similarity to Dr. Zachary Smith (Sirius was mortified after she'd pointed it out), they wandered through the small village's beautiful streets. After she told him repeatedly, that he looked really handsome with grey hair Sirius playfully tried to repeatedly suffocate her. They really had fun! Then they apparated again. This town was a little bigger and Sirius' favourite tattoo-studio was not far away. They loaned two bikes and left to find the studio. After an hour biking, three dead ends and a few death-threats towards Sirius, they reached their destination. Getting a tattoo hurt more than she expected but she could cope with it easily. When she was ready, she had a beautiful phoenix around her wrist and a small lion between her shoulder blades. Sadly, the shop was muggle so they didn't move at all. She remembered Sirius discreetly tapping the tattoos with his wand to heal them and then leaving the store while Sirius payed inside. The next and last thing she remembered was the world around her going black.

 

* * *

 

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

 

* * *

Ginny seriously doubted her own sanity. She had left the safety of the headquarters just to have a little fun? What was she? A stupid little kid? Merlin, and now she was here. In hell. In a dungeon with Bellatrix Lestrange. Well, Lestrange wasn't here anymore but Goyle could come here any moment. And she knew what would happen then. Ginny shivered. Was this her fate? She didn't want to end up as a toy for all the death eaters. A tear escaped her eye. She angrily wiped it into her shoulder. She wouldn't give them that satisfaction. They couldn't break her.

Ginny coughed again. It was cold, every breath hurt like hell and she had no way out. Wonderful. What did her lessons help her now? Nothing! She couldn't get out. She couldn't, couldn't, couldn't. She'd never see anything but these walls now. Until her death. She didn't want to die. She had wanted to see Egypt, where Bill was working, Romania and Charlie's dragons, the USA where the twins had opened a joke-shop and Germany, where Percy had found his dream-bureaucracy. She wanted to see the world. India, where the Patils were planning to go, France, where Hermione had sent her parents into hiding, and the Netherlands, where Susan had some distant relatives. She wanted to see the world. Everything. She wanted to be everywhere. Everywhere but here. Really. Even bathing with the alligators in the Everglades national park seemed welcoming. Okay, on second thought, the Everglades didn't sound very appealing either and the idea of going swimming with alligators was rather stupid. She didn't want to go to Florida's swamps. Erm… how about everywhere but in danger? Yes, she wanted to be everywhere but here or in any other kind of danger - especially not here. But also not in danger… Everywhere…

Thinking became harder and harder and slowly, she slipped into unconsciousness.

 

* * *

 

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

 

* * *

 

"Wake up, blood traitor!"

Ginny groaned. The pain in her chest was even worse now and she could hardly breathe. Goyle junior stood right in front of her, his eyes on her chest.

"Ah, finally. I didn't want you to sleep through the pleasure of getting your lungs free of blood. Now, here we go, _Scourgify!_ "

Ginny bit her lip in order to not cry out loud. This was agony. Not as much as the Cruciatus curse, but nearly as much. Her lung were filled with soap and foam and she couldn't breathe, then, only a second later, it was dried. But everything apart from her lungs felt dry, too. Her throat, mouth, her whole body felt dry. She felt dizzy again. The blood-loss was enormous.

She felt her head being yanked back roughly. Goyle forced something down her throat. It was liquid and tasted a little irony. Instantly, her head cleared again. The Blood-replenishing potion. Ginny took a deep breath of relief. She could breathe properly! She nearly laughed out loud in relief and hysteria. But then she saw Goyle again. Her mind was filled up with pictures of what he would do to her. She gulped. She didn't want any of this. If she could only reach the knife with her hands. She could end her miserable life before her torture started. But before she could even formulate a plan in her mind and before Goyle had even moved an inch, everything went black. But this was a different black from before. She wasn't unconscious, she knew that and for once, the darkness wasn't threatening, it was comforting. A satisfied, content feeling flooded through her body.

She heard Goyle shout and cry out for help, she heard his attempts to turn on light and laughed. Somehow she knew that he couldn't do anything against this. This darkness was more powerful than any of those pitiful death eaters could ever dream to be. This blackness was more than fate itself, and no one could escape it.

 

* * *

 

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it ^^ Thanks for the kudos, comments, etc. :)


	7. Fire - 6

* * *

 

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

 

* * *

 

 

Harry was tired. Knackered, to be honest. So why was he walking around in the forest? He had no idea. It had seemed like the best idea when he had started walking, never mind that only seconds before he had wanted nothing more but his bed. He and Estel had just arrived in Mirkwood after their trip to the Shire. It had been a very interesting and somehow fun trip, but now Harry was exhausted. He had nothing but walked and fought since March when they had started, and now it was the middle of August. One would think that Harry would be longing for his wonderful, comfortable, _fluffy_ bed, but apparently his head had other ideas. What in the name of the Valar had possessed him to…

Oh, there was it again. The feeling. The feeling he had to be here. Something that was pulling him into the forest. He didn't know what exactly made him walk in the exact direction he walked, but he didn't have any bad feelings about this. If there was any dark magic or creatures involved, he would have known by now. He had always been able to feel evil, whether it was a sick feeling in his stomach, a tingling in the back of his neck, or a clench of his jaw. No, there was nothing harmful around here.

Something in the back of his head urged Harry to hurry. He had to rush. Why was he in a hurry? It was a question to which he had no answer, but nevertheless Harry found himself walking faster. He knew the path he was taking. It led to the small glade where his dad had found him all those years ago.

There was something tingling in the air. It felt a little bit like magic, but at the same time entirely different. Harry's gaze fell on the floor and he stopped in his tracks.

There was a pair of feet before him. Feet. Actual, human, and very naked feet protruding from behind a trunk. Harry reached carefully for his sword and walked the few steps cautiously around the trees that hid the rest of the body. The legs connected to the feet were very long and a few spots of dirt and something that looked like phlegm. The shortest pair of trousers Harry had ever seen preserved whatever modesty was left of the person, barely covering half of the upper thigh. It was apparently a girl, with very long, fiery red hair. Her shirt was torn and ripped to pieces, mere tatters on her back. Harry was momentarily distracted by the shimmering shades of red and the occasional blonde strand in her hair before approaching her still form.

He almost gasped when he cautiously turned her onto her back.

There was knife in her chest. Her shirt was dirty and bloody, her eyes were closed and her face was as pale as a sheet. Harry immediately checked for a pulse. He felt it, barely there and much too slow, but she was alive. He had to get help. He looked at the knife, calculating. If he tried to pull it out, he could damage important inner organs but if he left it there, the knife would probably do more damage while he carried her. Mind made up, he grabbed the handle and pulled as careful as possible until he had the dagger out of her. The girl was still unconscious. Harry ripped a stripe of cloth out of his shirt and did his best to stop the bleeding.

Done, he lifted her up as careful as he could and started running home. With adrenaline in his veins and a clear path in his mind, he made it home much faster. He crossed the bridge and shouted for help even before the door was fully opened.

 _"_ _Harry! Are you all right? What happened to upset you s…"_

The guard had turned around and caught sight of the woman. He looked up at Harry's face, nodded, and ran off to alert the healers. The other guard helped him lay her on the ground and keeping her stable while they waited.

 _"_ _Who is she?"_

 _"_ _I have no idea. I walked through the forest and she just lay there, bleeding and unconscious."_

 _"_ _Does that mean you've just brought a complete stranger with you?"_

 _"_ _Yes, it does, but look at her, she's dying without help!"_

 _"_ _Now, yes, but_ _about when she wakes up!?"_

 _"_ _You mean that girl has the ability to overcome every elf in Mirkwood on her own when she just barely escaped death?"_

 _"_ _Never underestimate strangers. You know that. She could have an army at her command."_

 _"_ _A woman?"_

 _"_ _Tauriel leads our best troop!"_

 _"_ _Yes, but she is an elf. You know that humans are of the opinion_ _that women can't fight. "_

 _"_ _How do you know she's human?"_.

The argument would have gone on for a while, if they hadn't been interrupted by the healers' arrival. Wordlessly, they put her on a stretcher and hurried off. Harry wanted to go with them to see if he could do anything, but was interrupted when he heard his Dad's voice calling out for him. Harry smiled weakly at him. The adrenaline had mostly left him and he was feeling rather tired again.

 _"_ _Hello, Dad, it's good to see you again."_

Harry hadn't seen him for five months and two weeks. A very long time indeed. His father just smiled and hugged him close. When they released each other after a long moment, they went out into the gardens to find comfortable place to sit and talk. Harry saw the curiosity in his father's eyes – he would want to know everything. They sat down on their favourite bench. It was built around an old willow whose branches hid the bench's occupants from direct view. For a few minutes, none of them talked. They just sat there and enjoyed each other's long missed company for a while. It was Legolas who broke the silence.

 _"_ _I think I should have expected you to bring home random injured humans. You always are in the centre of any trouble that comes up. Did any other extraordinary things happen on your little holiday that I should know about? "_

There was no answer. After a few seconds, Legolas turned his head to look at his son and smiled. Harry's head was tilted to the side, his moth was slightly agape and a soft snoring came from his nose. The last time Harry had fallen asleep sitting, he had been five years old. Legolas shook his head, chuckling lightly. Estel's little training-holiday had apparently been a challenge.

 

* * *

 

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

 

* * *

 

 _"_ _What?"_

Harry nearly shouted at his grandfather. He was beginning to hate that calm facade Thranduil had chosen to wear on his face, as if everything that had happened couldn't bother him less.

 _"_ _We know nothing about this girl. As soon as she is awake, she will have to leave_ _the Woodland realm."_

 _"_ _But you can't do that! She'll die! Have you forgotten about the spiders? About all the creatures that are creeping out of the dark right now?!"_

 _"_ _No. But this is none of our concern. It is not our duty to aid the mortals whenever they are in need"_

 _"_ _This isn't about the whole human race. This is about one, unarmed, defenceless little girl!"_

 _"_ _She had a knife."_

 _"_ _Yes, sticking in her chest. Wonderful."_

 _"_ _Mind your tongue, grandson."_

 _"_ _I'll talk to you however I want, King Thranduil."_

With satisfaction, Harry noticed his grandfather's eye twitch. He had managed to provoke him. Good. He was going to think about his actions now. Harry was going to get him to agree. That girl was not a threat.

 _"_ _Why are you calling me that?"_

 _"_ _Because my grandfather would try to understand. He would listen to me. Right now, you are not the grandfather I know."_

His grandfather's face grew hard. Harry had apparently hit a sore spot.

 _"_ _You seem to be very… fond of her. You are risking very much even though you haven't even talked to her. Did nobody teach you to rather see the personality than the… exterior assets?"_

Harry looked at his grandfather, gobsmacked. He hadn't thought about that. He had noticed her attractive appearance, but when he'd brought her to Thranduil's halls that hadn't mattered. He would have taken any injured creature there to get help – except the obviously dangerous and hostile ones.

 _"_ _Her looks aren't important."_

 _"_ _What is important, then?"_

 _"_ _That she's injured, defenceless and unarmed!"_

 _"_ _Give me one reason. Give me one good reason why you want her to stay so badly."_

Harry went silent for quite a while. Why did he want her to stay? Was there a reason at all? All he knew was that, similar to the feeling that he had to go into the forest before he found her, he had the feeling that he had to let her stay. He couldn't really explain it.

 _"_ _She… kind of… just feels right. Do you know what I mean? This gut feeling that tells you what's good and what's bad? Right now, it feels good to keep her around. She feels right."_

The King's expression softened and he leaned back in his throne. Harry always used to admire the elegance he possessed, especially when he sat in that throne. But he never sat there when he talked to Harry. He always came down to talk at eye level. This was the first time he talked to Harry as his King, as his superior, as commander.

 _"_ _You will get five minutes. Five minutes to determine if she intends any harm to come towards us. You may talk, probe her mind or whatever method comes to your mind, but you have no more than five minutes."_

 

* * *

 

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

 

* * *

 

The first thing Ginny remembered when she slowly woke was a lot of white. She lay on something dry, comfortable and warm. She felt a fluffy pillow under her head and snuggled deeper into her blankets. Somehow, in the back of her mind, everything around her felt odd. Usually she was a morning person – always jumping out of bed as soon as the sun rose, but now she didn't want to leave this comfortable bed. It had been long since she'd had a real bed… Wait, why had it been long-? Oh, yes, Lestrange, dungeon, torture…

Why was she lying in a bed then? She could remember Bellatrix leaving and after that point, her memory was a bit hazy. Even with immense effort, Ginny couldn't work out what had happened to give her a comfortable bed. She would have to open her eyes to find out. But then she would have to face the world and people around her. Maybe she was in the Death Eater's infirmary. Did Death Eaters have something like that? She couldn't quite picture someone like Rodolphus Lestrange being fussed over by a medi-witch. He'd most likely Crucio her when she got nearer than a foot.

Knowing that she couldn't pretend to sleep forever, she opened her eyes. The sun was shining through a window somewhere behind her. Her blanket and pillow where white and the walls were made of white-greyish stone. Everything around her looked to be even older than Hogwarts.

 _"_ _You have awoken."_

As fast as she could, she turned her head to face the speaker. She hadn't understood a word of what he'd said. The man who had spoken in the completely unfamiliar, melodious language had long silvery hair and a kind smile on his face. High cheekbones and a slender appearance made him look Veela-like, even though male-Veela didn't exist. He also had an air of wisdom and kindness about him that made him seem the opposite of Veela, who were temperamental and fiery creatures. His skin seemed so pale that it almost had an unearthly glow to it.

"Erm – sorry, what?"

The man smiled. Ginny automatically wondered how yellow her teeth had to look in comparison to that toothpaste-advertisement smile. Then she paused and asked herself since when she had cared about her looks.

"I apologise. I should have known that mankind does not always speak Sindarin. It has been long since I have encountered one raised by humankind. I am Nestrarion. What is your name?"

Ginny tried to sit up before answering. Hot pain shot through her chest as she tried to prop up on her arms. She gasped and tears shot into her eyes.

"You should not move too much. You had a dagger piercing one lung just two weeks ago. You should rest."

Defeated and frustrated at her own inability to sit, she sank back onto her pillow. As she looked up to the healer whose name she had already forgotten, she noticed his ears. They were pointed.

"What are you?"

When she noticed that she probably sounded extremely rude, it was already too late and the words were out of her mouth. She quickly added:

"I don't mean to insult you or anything, but you don't look very human and in our current situation, one can never be cautious enough."

The healer seemed more amused than offended.

"You are in Mirkwood, in King Thranduil's Halls. I am an elf. Before you ask: no, contrary to many rumours, we cannot move the stars."

Ginny raised a single eyebrow.

"Elf? As in house-elf? You don't really look familiar in any aspects."

Now the healer frowned lightly.

"I am not aware of a species called house elf. I am a wood-elf. You have not told me your name, would you be so kind?"

Ginny looked at the man, calculating whether to trust him. Her name was not something to tell people lightly. Everyone would recognize the name 'Weasley'. But somehow, the man seemed so trustworthy that it seemed ridiculous to refuse an answer.

"I'm Ginevra Weasley."

His name had been very old fashioned and long. Her usual nickname 'Ginny' seemed inappropriate to tell him.

"It is nice to meet you, Ginevra Weasley. There are some people who need to know of your awakening. Do not try to wander off."

And with that, he was gone and Ginny was alone. She had no idea where she was, with whom she was and how she had come here. She had no wand, couldn't move without feeling agonising pain and she had apparently been in coma for two weeks. Yes, she was definitely completely useless right now.

'Wonderful,' she thought sarcastically. 'Wherever I am, I need to surrender to whomever and whatever they want me to do - again. Isn't life just wonderful?'

 

* * *

 

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

 

* * *

 

Harry was sitting in the library when Healer Nestrarion came. He didn't say much.

 _"_ _She's awake."_

Then he went to inform Harry's father and grandfather. Both wanted to listen when he would be talking to the girl. Harry felt somehow excited. The girl had looked to be six- or seventeen. He hadn't had the chance to talk to someone this close to his age for a long a time.

Legolas and Thranduil chose to stay behind, not visible from the infirmary but within hearing range. Harry took a breath to shake off the excitement and gave himself a relaxed expression. Then he went into the room. The girl sat on one of the beds, staring at the wall with a distant expression on her face. She flinched when she heard Harry's footsteps and turned her head towards him, her eyes looking right through him.

She had freckles all over her pale skin, and slightly pink cheeks. Her eyes were a dark hazel and her eyelashes the same red as her hair. Harry smiled his most calming smile.

"Hello. I'm Harry. Who are you?"

The girl flinched again and the distant look in her eyes became slightly panicked before she focussed on him and got noticeably calmer.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I said hello. My name is Harry. What's your name?"

The girl looked at him sceptically before answering.

"Why should I tell you? I've never seen you before and in our current political situation, it's not exactly reasonable to share this kind of information with strangers."

"You told Nestrarion."

"Yes. But he healed me and you were going to find out my name anyway."

"You're right about that, Ginevra… I have a request."

She raised one of her eyebrows.

"Which is…?"

"King Thranduil wishes for you to leave as soon as you can walk again. With all the darkness rising in this lands, we cannot guarantee that you will survive on your own. It is my task to look into your mind and see if you have any negative intentions towards the elves or our allies. It won't hurt at all, but it will prove your innocence."

Ginevra paled.

"You're… No, I won't allow you to use Legilimency on me. I like my memories intact, thank you very much!"

"I can't use what on you?"

"Legilimency!"

"What's supposed to be?"

"That's the art of rummaging in someone's memories! What you're about to do!"

Harry looked at her, surprise written all over his face. Ginevra still had a very defensive expression. Her body language told him how sceptical and guarded she was towards him.

"I didn't know it was called that."

"Well, then you either didn't read the book titles or your teacher was rubbish. And before you're going to ask: No again, I won't have anyone in my head!"

"But you are still injured and there is no way you're going to survive even a single day on your own. The spiders are leaving their territory. All kinds of dark, dangerous things are creeping out of the dark!"

"Why should I be afraid of some old spiders? You can scare my brother or little children with them, but what sane person is afraid of a spider?"

Harry stared at her. Was she very insane, very brave, very stupid or all at once?

"You do know what we're talking about? Black, human and elf-eating things, about sixteen feet tall?"

"You mean there are acromantula in this area? Why are you still living here? Why are you still alive?"

"acro-what?"

"Acromantula. Giant spider?"

"That is a stupid name. Who came up with that?"

"How should I know?"

They stared at each other with curiosity. Harry was the first to break the silence.

"Where are you from?"

"London."

"Where?"

"London."

"Never heard of it."

"What? London, Capital of England? The UK? United Kingdom?"

Harry just shook his head. Ginevra seemed shocked.

"Have you ever heard of Europe?"

"No. I'm sorry. Where is it in Middle-earth?"

"Middle… No, I am from Earth. No middle. Just Earth. What is Middle-earth?"

Now it was Harry's turn to look shocked.

"But… you must have heard of Gondor? Rohan? The Misty Mountains? Lórien? Nothing?"

They went back to just staring intently at each other without a word.

"Let me look into your mind just once. For a few seconds only. If I detect no harmful intentions against us, you can stay and we can help you find your way home. You'll have to leave otherwise – unarmed, injured and alone. Please."

He thought he saw panic filling her eyes, but the moment was too short and he could've easily imagined it.

"I promise to be gentle. It won't hurt."

 

* * *

 

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

 

* * *

 

To say Ginny was panicking would be a bit of an understatement. This one – with short and unruly hair – wanted to use Legilimency on her. Despite everything, Sirius never showed her more than the basics of Occlumency since he hadn't bothered to learn it as a teenager in his rebellious stage. She silently cursed herself for not consulting a book or Hermione about the subject. Now she was in this mess.

Harry looked at her with concern shining through his piercing green eyes. He looked genuine, as if he really didn't want to hurt her or invade her privacy. But Ginny didn't trust strangers. She didn't trust anyone besides Sirius and her blood family. And now, she had to do what she never had to do before. She had to choose under pressure. Sirius had taught her many things but this was something that couldn't be taught. You needed to experience it a few times and your abilities would grow with that.

But what choice did she really have? Either be sent to her certain death – without a wand, into a world where nobody knew Europe – or have somebody roaming through her mind. She sighed internally. As much as she despised having her privacy invaded, she did not want to die. Especially after she had escaped death so narrowly just a few days ago. She still couldn't believe she had been in coma for two weeks. Well, after what Bellatrix had done to her… Ginny shivered despite the warm summer-air.

"Okay.

The boy looked at her, surprised.

"What?"

"I said Okay."

"I know, I've heard you."

"Why'd you ask then?"

"Because."

"That's no answer."

"It is, obviously as I just used it as an answer."

She scowled.

"Git. Come on now. Get over with it."

She was curious to see his wand. If this was such a different culture, the wands surely would look different, wouldn't they? She wondered if she could get one from those people-

"Okay, now, here we go, look me in the eyes, try not to blink and stay calm."

With his piercing green eyes wide, he looked straight into her own. He put his fingers onto her temples and then stopped moving. It was unnerving. He sat there, no twitching, no blinking, no movement at all. Not even a wand in sight. Then she felt something in her head. Gentle. A tugging in her forehead.

She had time for a surprised "Oh" then she was flooded by her own memories.

 

* * *

 

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

 

* * *

 

Harry had entered Ginevra's mind now. It was unnerving how many different feelings she had locked away to the bottom of her consciousness. There were so many feelings and even more memories behind those. He didn't really want to look. These feelings could only be caused by horrifying experiences. But he had a task – he had to probe into every negative emotion, to see if there was any threat for the elves behind that. 'Reading a mind' worked like this: there were emotions, feelings that worked as some sort of doors. When these emotions or some other kind of perception (like a picture or a certain smell) were triggered, one could view different memories that were connected to this impressions or feelings. The emotions worked like a shelf with drawers. By triggering one of the feelings, you opened one drawer and were able to look at the memories, like neatly folded socks. To keep anyone from seeing your memories, you had to hide your emotions completely so there was no way one particular feeling could be triggered and the memories behind it could be viewed.

Harry shivered as he reached the last emotion, the one that was nearly but not completely hidden. He found himself confronted with one of the most terrifying feelings he had ever seen in a mind. He hadn't been allowed to read many memories as extensive as this one, but he had never seen something like that. He was confronted with an emotion that could surely be found in exactly the same way inside his head if someone was to enter his mind.

It was absolutely terrifying, paralyzing fear mixed with a feeling of utter powerlessness.

He dreaded to look into the memories behind this emotion. But he had a duty. He had to ensure the safety of his family and friends. Biting his lip, Harry triggered the feeling and felt the memories swirl around his head. He could feel himself paling. This girl – no, this woman – was able to fight. He saw her. She had fought in a dungeon, against four elders, while drugged or something as her vision kept getting blurrier. Even so, she still managed to hold them off for about ten minutes before falling unconscious.

Harry was impressed. He had never seen anyone fight like that. She had a stick in her hand, bolts of light shooting from its tip, causing explosions and destruction. In that moment, he could feel power radiating from her like fire. Ginevra was filled with fire – and yet she had felt powerless in her situation. Harry couldn't understand that. She had obviously been captured and still managed to get herself armed! That certainly showed skill and power.

He carefully retreated, trying hard to not damage anything, as minds were always fragile.

He blinked a few times and let go of her head. It was only then that he realized Ginevra was crying. Silently and constantly wiping her eyes, embarrassment evident on her face. Harry was not great with crying females. He had, in fact, no idea at all when it came to that. But thankfully, he did notice the awkward atmosphere caused by their silence. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He should definitely say something sensible. Well, now, what would human females consider as sensitive? The same things as elven females? Probably. It was worth a try. He cleared his throat.

"Erm… I… you – look good when you're fighting."

Oh. No, that hadn't been the words he had wanted to say. Mentally slapping himself, he didn't notice the change in her position at first. Then he realized that her shoulders weren't shaking so much anymore. She lifted her head, and through the tears, there was a smirk playing on her lips.

"I know," she said, and somehow managed to sound smug through the sobs that escaped her. Internally, Harry did a little victory dance – he had managed to break the ice. Wonderful. What was next then? Another try for something sensible?

"You know, that was some good fighting there, and I should know about it, I've been trained to fight since my seventh birthday. How did you fight? I mean, I've seen many different kinds of magic, including mine, but that was different. You used a stick. Can I have a stick, too? I'd like one. I'd probably improve my magic with it. Aaand I'm rambling, aren't I? That's not good. Rambling means I'm nervous, why am I nervous, I shouldn't be ner-"

He was cut off by a not exactly light smack on the arm by Ginevra. She had a smile on her face, which even managed to reach her eyes a tiny bit.

"Yes. You are rambling."

He looked at her with a small pout playing on his lips.

"Ow. That hurt."

She rolled her eyes and the smile turned into a smirk again.

"Of course it did."

"You're being sarcastic, Ginevra, while I am mortally wounded. You should weep the loss of my arm!"

"Ginny."

"What?"

"Ginny. Call me Ginny."

He looked at her slightly stunned.

"Why would I do that?"

She looked at him even more stunned.

"Cause that's what friends do. Call each other by their nicknames."

"Really?"

"Of course! Don't your friends do that, too?"

Harry looked at her, deep in thought for a moment.

"No, I suppose not. Unless you count Estel calling me little one. Though my friends are not what you would define as – ordinary by human standards. "

Ginevr – no, he corrected himself - _Ginny_ looked curious now. It made her eyes shine.

"Why's that?"

"Well. You humans usually don't have friends who are at least two millennia older than you – except for Estel and little Ines, who ar-"

He was cut off by someone clearing his throat somewhere behind him. Harry saw Ginny removing her gaze from his face and looking behind him. The curiosity in her eyes and the smile on her lips instantly vanished from her face and a guarded expression took their place. Harry didn't have to turn around to know whose voice it had been.

"I see you gave me more than five minutes," he said, smiling, turning to look into the ever emotionless face of his Grandfather. He nodded at Harry and then locked eyes with Ginny. Harry could see her gulping.

"I have made a decision based on Harry's reactions to your memories. You may stay as long as necessary."

Ginny seemed to be too relived and stunned to say anything as she bowed her head obediently. Thranduil turned towards Harry.

"I believe she will stay for a while, am I right?"

Harry nodded.

"Then you shall give her a room near our living quarters, not far from yours, as soon as she is able to leave the infirmary. I want you to keep an eye on her. Do not let her become involved into any business we attend and never let her wander off alone."

Thranduil glanced at Ginny sceptically for one last time and then left. Ginny visibly relaxed at Thranduil's absence. She looked thoughtful at the corridor where his grandfather had chosen to go. They both said nothing for a while.

"Was that some kind of authority figure? Is he always that arrogant?"

Harry tried to look reproachfully at her.

"He's the King in whose halls you're currently lying and to whose grandson you're talking."

"Oh. I didn't know. I'm sorry. I didn't mean any disrespect."

She looked sown at her sheets now, as if they were the most interesting thing in the world. She did look genuinely sorry. Harry grinned.

"And yes, he usually is that arrogant."

Harry nearly laughed out loud as her head shot up in record time and her eyes widened.

"Well, at least when he's trying to be intimidating and formidable."

Slowly, a small smile took over her lips. She tilted her head and examined him.

"Help me get away from here."

Harry raised both eyebrows, stunned.

"I just managed to let you stay, why would you want to go when you don't need to?"

She rolled her eyes, her smile getting brighter.

"Not leave as in go away form this place but as in get away from the hospital wing."

He looked at her blankly.

"The what?"

"This room here. The infirmary."

A grin spread over Harry's face. Aha, there was someone who hated infirmaries just as much as himself.

"If you will stay in bed when you're in your room, I'll help you."

She nodded, eager to leave the sterile atmosphere every sickbay had behind. She sat up slowly and even though she barely grimaced, Harry could see how much it hurt. He suddenly doubted his decision to help her. What if her internal wounds tore up again? Her voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Oi! Didn't you say something about helping?!"

Shoving his doubts aside – it had been her decision after all, thus any damage would be her fault – he helped her stand up. Very soon, it became obvious that walking was a no-go. Ginny had closed her eyes and Harry could see she was holding back tears. Her face was contorted with pain.

Feeling a little guilty, Harry thought of alternatives to walking. He shook his head knowing that they couldn't continue like this – they'd be caught in a minute, even with Harry's secret shortcuts – and picked her up. The first few seconds, she hissed in pain and dug her nails into Harry's shoulder but then she relaxed. He sighed, relieved to be able to go on faster, without the constant danger of being caught. He could hear Ginny mumbling something incomprehensible into his neck.

"What?"

She tilted her head slightly. Harry could see her tired eyes looking up to him.

"I said, you should work on your pick-up-someone-bridal-style abilities."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"I doubt I will do that ever again."

When she spoke again, she sounded as if she was trying very hard to not fall asleep. Apparently their little walk had been exhausting for her.

"Why? Already married?"

Harry grinned and shook his head.

"No. But the few relationships I had were nothing but time-devouring."

He could hear her giggle. She sounded a little delirious. Was this exhaustion, her sleepiness or had Nestrarion given her some crazy potion?

"Same here. We could marry each other. Then we wouldn't have anyone pester us to get attached and we wouldn't need to be with some annoying, time-consuming person. We could be best mates, eat chips on the sofa, play Quidditch, listen to matches on the radio and we…"

Suddenly she stopped talking. Harry chuckled. Wow, sleep deprivation made people talk like crazy. He wondered if he ever talked like that when he was tired. He smiled at the faint snores coming from Ginny. He wondered what her reaction would be in the morning, when she realised what she had said. A grin spread over his face. Oh yes, he would tease her mercilessly – he could already see the beginning of a wonderful friendship.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked the chapter :) Thanks for the kudos, comments, etc. ^^


	8. Lots of talking -7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you'll like it, I'd love to hear from you via review or pm. Likes and follows are also very motivating! :)

 

* * *

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

* * *

Loud voices woke Ginny in the morning. She couldn't quite make out what was being said, but to be honest, she didn't really care. She opened her eyes. Panic constricted her chest, she couldn't breathe and she began to shiver violently – where was she? After a few panic filled seconds that felt like days to Ginny, she remembered everything and tried to calm herself. She wasn't in those dungeons again. She was safe. There were people who had healed her, who cared enough about her to give her a room and help her. She wasn't with Bellatrix Lestrange again. She wasn't under constant threat of torture.

A dry sob escaped her mouth but she held back tears. She forcefully pushed her thoughts away from Death Eaters. What had happened last night? Ah, yes, Harry had taken her out of the infirmary on her wish. She could feel herself blush at what she had said to him. Merlin, she already knew he was going to tease her just as badly as Fred and George. Damn her sleepiness! The pain in her chest was surprisingly mostly gone. Before she could try sitting up however, the voices stopped and somebody knocked four times against her door.

"Yes?"

The door opened and - wait, what was his name? – well, the healer came in.

"I see you are awake now. Is it really you who is responsible for being out of the infirmary, as Harry claims you to be?"

Before she could answer, the door opened once more, just a crack and said boy peeked into the room.

"I had nothing to do with it! It's all her fault."

He sounded like a child caught stealing cookies – his pout even made him look like one. He also had a whiny quality to his voice that made Ginny desperately want to hit him.

"Well, you carried me here."

The healer turned to face Harry with both his perfectly shaped eyebrows raised.

"Harry? Is that true?"

Harry looked up sheepishly. Merlin, that innocent-sweet-me look was perfection. Even she couldn't get it so flawlessly. Apparently her eyes gave it away with 'Fred and George's mischievous twinkle'. He had to teach her that.

"Well, yes, but-"

"Harry! What were you thinking?"

"Well, she was already standing up, I couldn't just let her walk on her own. She fell asleep after a minute!"

He looked at Harry with a mix of exasperation and amusement.

"That is the reason patients usually lie in bed."

"I know that. But she wanted to."

The healer turned to her now, a slightly strained smile on his face. She could see in his eyes though, that he was silently enjoying all this. Where had she ended up? Her mother would've had her skin if she'd helped someone escape the infirmary! She wouldn't be amused in the slightest bit! Merlin, these wood-elves were such strange creatures.

"What have you to say to that matter, Ginevra Weasley?"

Harry piped up: "Yes, Ginny. Tell him you wanted to!"

Ginny took a little more time contemplating than necessary, just to make sure she chose the right words – and because she liked to see Harry squirm under the healer's stern gaze. She needed this picture of him in her mind when he was going to tease her later on. She was sure he hadn't forgotten about her tired-rambling.

"Yes, it was my wish to be brought out of the infirmary. I don't like the sterile atmosphere and the caged feeling. This way, I can look out of the window, see?"

Harry and the healer both simultaneously looked towards her window. They looked very comical doing so, a little bit like the characters in those comic-books Ron liked to read. Her smile vanished. Ron. Would she ever see him again? Any of her family? She gulped heavily. She'd never see Ron and Hermione finally getting their act together. She'd never be there for the twin's next visit, or Charlie's letters or Bill's wedding. Everything would happen without her. She shook her head, as if to shake off those memories.

"…ny! Ginny! Everything alright?"

She managed to force a weak smile on her face. The raven haired and - contrary to the others she had seen - very tan boy had left his position at the door and was standing next to her bed by now.

"Yes, yes. Of course, Harry."

The healer smiled and opened a bag she hadn't noticed before. He took out a few vials and tubes, all containing liquids of different colours.

"While I will tend to Ginevra's wounds, you, Harry, will wait outside. Thank you very much."

The boy in question winked in her direction, hinted a curtsey towards the healer and left the room. The healer had a small smile on his face as he watched the door close.

"It has been a long time since I have seen him that carefree around anybody.

He rummaged in his bag and took out a couple of bandages. He turned towards her, the kind smile still on his face. She wondered if the healer noticed how unfitting Harry's behaviour had seemed.

"Do you see him often, then?" Ginny asked.

He laughed quietly and proceeded to mix a few of the substances he had brought.

"He grew up here. I have been his personal healer ever since he was found. He does tend to get himself injured. He always used to joke and be up to mischief."

Ginny looked at him inquisitive. She decided not to ask why he said 'found him' and instead asked:

"You said he 'used to'. Doesn't he anymore?"

The healer turned towards her, a little bit of greyish paste on a bandage.

"Not as often. He once went to the village and was nearly killed. It changed him."

Her lips curled up in a bitter smile.

"I can imagine."

The healer said nothing. He just changed the bandages around her chest and head and gave her a few nasty tasting potions before tending to the remaining cuts on her arms and legs with a sharp smelling salve.

"I am finished now. Don't go and swap rooms again. Bed-rest and much sleep for at least a week. You will see me tomorrow at noon. Have a wonderful day, Ginevra."

"See you tomorrow."

She smiled slightly as she watched the kind man leave the room. Instead of closing the door, Harry came in with a huge pile of books and rolls of parchment in his hands. Ginny tilted her head as he put them on the desk in her room.

"These are all kinds of maps and books about the world. I want to find your Landun."

Ginny snickered lightly.

"What?"

She smiled at Harry's inquisitive face.

"It's London. Not Landun."

"Yes. That's what I said. Now, Books!"

She playfully rolled her eyes at him. It had been long since she had met someone as worriless as him. Not even Fred and George managed to be like that when they visited. Their eyes were always overshadowed with worry and fear for their family's lives. He dropped a particularly fat tome on her lap. She threw him a mock glare and opened it.

She stared.

There were fine lines, very beautiful and a little bit Arabic looking, but more elegant.

She had no idea how to read this.

"What's that writing?"

Harry looked up from a book himself.

"It's Sindarin."

She looked at him blankly and understanding dawned in his eyes.

"You can't read it, right?"

"No. Not a word."

He seemed to think shortly, then jumped on his feet and rummaged through a few rolls of parchment. After having apparently found the one he wanted, he handed it to her.

"It's written in common tongue. I think it's the only one we have and it's really new, so try not to destroy it."

Careful avoid making even the tiniest rip on the parchment, she unrolled it. It was a map of the world. Her fingers went numb and her throat constricted. A dry sob escaped her mouth.

Harry looked at her, surprised.

"What?"

Ginny shook her head and looked at the map again. This world, wherever she was, was not Earth. There was no Europe, there was no Asia, no Africa, no America, no Australia and no Poles. Nothing that looked even only remotely familiar. Only 'Dark Lands', 'Hither Lands' and 'Aman'. All of the sudden, she felt sick. Was she somehow on a completely different planet? Or just in a time very far away? She couldn't contact anyone from her family as her wand was still with the Death Eaters. The trick with a second wand had only worked once, afterwards she was searched and everything in her pockets was taken from her, even the cinema-tickets. She wished she had something to conjure a Patronus with. She could at least try to reach her parents that way. She looked up and saw Harry studying her.

"You look concerned. Is something the matter?"

She frowned. His carefree attitude sounded so wrong. Ginny couldn't really believe him to be like that when he had grown up around these serious creatures – judging by his ears, he was one of them. She shook her head, trying to clear it.

"You said something about magic. You know Legilimency. Do you have a wand I could use to send my parents a Patronus?"

He looked at her blankly.

"I have a what to let you do what?"

"A wand. You know, a stick that lets you do magic?"

"Oh, you mean like a staff. Or this thing I saw shooting lights in your memories."

She looked at him, hope shining in her eyes.

"Yes, that. Do you have one?"

He shook his head.

"No. But why would you need a wand to do magic? I know Mithrandir needs his staff, but he's one of the Istari."

"I've always used a wand to do magic. I never thought about the reason."

Harry tilted his head to the side. The now thoughtful expression on his face seemed to be much more fitting for him.

"Have you ever tried magic without a wand?"

"Not since my last outburst of accidental magic."

"And what's that?"

"When you are a child and experience a strong emotion like fear or joy, there are uncontrollable and unforeseeable outbursts of magic. Nothing too strong usually, but I've heard of children who accidentally blew up garden fences or playgrounds. According to Mum, the strongest I've ever done was to set a hurricane into my room when she wanted to dress me in a pink skirt and a blouse with ruffles."

Harry stayed silent for a while, the thoughtful look on his face becoming more intense.

"I think I had this once. I let all the books in the library and myself float around. My Dad says I know the exact position of every book ever since – even if they are moved. But I think that's it. After the incident, a family friend taught me how to control my magic. It's all about determination and focus."

Ginny's hopes sank. She wasn't able to do wandless magic. That required years, decades even, a very powerful magical core and a strong mind. She couldn't associate herself with any of the required qualifications. Absently, she tucked an annoying strand of hair behind her ear.

"I think that's what a wand is for. Hermione might have mentioned once or twice that wands are there to concentrate the magic into one point, the tip of the wand, so it would be more powerful."

"Really? I used to have a stone that helped me to concentrate my magic into my hand, but it's returned to the dwarfs already and I doubt they will let us have it once again - they are rather greedy with their possessions."

She could hear the distaste in his voice as he mentioned the dwarfs – there was probably some kind of feud going on. Before Ginny could answer him this time though, the door burst open without knocking.

A woman stood there, as breathtakingly beautiful as the men had been, but with softer features and curves in just the right places. Ginny briefly wondered if she had landed in some kind of model-trainings-camp, then she saw the distressed look on her face. She spoke in the melodious language the healer had used to greet her.

"The guards were attacked, down by the furthest docks! The spiders haven't dared to go such distance from their territory up until now. Two guards were kidnapped. One other was able to run and hide. He is now in the entrance-hall. Legolas asked me to get you, Harry, he wants to fight alongside his son, hurry now!"

Ginny hadn't understood a word of what she had said – apart from Harry's name. It sounded wrong in the melodious language. Like a fly in clear water or a bump in otherwise perfectly smooth metal. The name was foreign to the language, didn't belong. But Ginny did see Harry's expression change. The worriless. look on his face dropped in a second and she could see what he had been hiding behind this mask. The determined and fierce expression of a soldier, a warrior was now controlling the boy's features. Fire seemed to burn in his green eyes and magic gathered around him like flies around the light. She wondered if he knew what effect he had on others, if he could feel what his magic was doing and shivered.

"I'm on my way Maechenebil. Would you please keep her company?"

The woman nodded and gave him a hug, He kissed her forehead and hurried out. Ginny couldn't help but feel like the third wheel. Well, she was in a way. The new one, the unknown and foreign – like the name 'Harry' in this language. The woman looked at Ginny, and Ginny looked back. The silence in the room was louder than the common room back at the headquarters at New Year's Eve.

* * *

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

* * *

Harry ran into his room, where he kept his sword and bow. After securing the sword with his belt and his bow and arrows around his shoulder, he rushed out, through the corridors, over bridges and into the entrance hall. He could see his Dad and five others waiting for him. One of them looked up.

"Greetings, Harry. We still await the arrival of Cystenn and Entrydal."

Harry nodded and went to stand next to his Dad. It took the two others less than thirty seconds to arrive and together the eight of them went outside to begin their hunt, their rescue mission. Harry knew he probably shouldn't enjoy this, but it had been too long since he'd last fought a spider. Since he came back from the northern borders of the shire, he hadn't fought anything or anyone – not even for practise because he needed to be present in the halls in case Ginny awoke. Now as Harry sped quietly through the forest, among friends and family on his way to save the captured guards, he couldn't help but enjoy himself. Grinning, he ran a little faster. The air around him was buzzing with excitement, he could feel it tingling against his skin. Since his seventeenth birthday, he had been able to feel it. The air around him always shimmered and buzzed when he was on his way to a battle. The feeling was comforting, familiar and exciting. He relished it. It made him stronger. It gave him the ability to push himself further when he reached his end. It made him faster, when he was slowing down. It made him sense an attack that was coming from behind his back. The tingling air around him was his weapon.

The further they went, the darker and gloomier it got. The trees didn't let much light through so the sunlight became weakened, resembling more the light of a new moon. Harry knew he wouldn't be able to fight with such little light. He focussed on his magic, pictured the colourful ball he had seen when meditating and twisted it. He let it flow to his eyes. The tingling air around him pulsed once, twice. He saw the forest around him light up. It wasn't visible for anyone else, neither the elves nor any hostile creatures, Harry had only improved his own sight. He could keep the spell up without difficulty for about two hours – more than enough.

The first cobwebs appeared in the trees above them, on the floor and basically everywhere. Sporadically at first, but not tripping over any of them became more of a challenge the further they went. If one only did so much as touch the cobwebs, the spiders would be alerted of their approach. They wanted to stay undiscovered as long as possible. Eloen, the woman with curly black hair in lead of the group suddenly stopped. Before Harry could wonder why, he heard a faint clicking noise in the air. The spider's way of communicating.

A feral grin spread on Harry's lips. They were close.

Eloen signalled them to get their weapons. All eight of them took their bow and an arrow, ready to fire at the faintest movement. He could hear the pattering of feet so quiet, Harry wouldn't have heard it if he wasn't trained to recognise that sound. Harry closed his eyes and concentrated on his hearing. He could make out four, no, eight – twelve pairs of feet. Three spiders. They came from behind, obviously oblivious of the elves' presence as they would have surrounded the small group otherwise. Spiders attacked from above, not from the ground. Harry opened his eyes again. Just to be sure, he looked upwards and searched the branches for any sign of movement. Nothing. No spiders to be seen. This wasn't an ambush. He heard a branch crack, right behind him, and spun around. A spider, a relatively small one, hovered before him. He knelt down to avoid the arrows that would be shot from the others in the group who were standing behind him and shot an arrow himself. The spider – now with six eyes less – made angry clicking noises and charged at harry. He could see the shower of arrows from behind him distracting the spider a bit and thrust his sword upwards in the last possible moment. A satisfying crack could be heard as the sword broke through the exoskeleton. The spider shrieked loudly in a most un-spidery manner and retreated a few tiny steps before collapsing.

The area had gotten quiet. The only sound Harry heard was his own hard breathing. Any sign of the other two spider was gone. Nobody dared to move, afraid they would miss a sound coming from the huge creatures. They stood there for what seemed like hours. A little voice of reason in his head told him it couldn't have been more than three minutes top, but it felt like much more. Slowly, without needing to communicate verbally – a look was sufficient – they went on. More cautious than ever to not touch the cobwebs - even though the spider's shriek and tumbling surely hadn't gone unnoticed - their steps lighter in order to make less sound and their weapons at ready. They walked about two minutes, tense and concentrated, not daring to drop their guard for only on second, even though the forest was as quiet as could be. The silence was unnerving and the air seemed to thicken with tension. It wasn't fear, no, this group had dealt with spiders often enough, it was one of their most frequent real-life-practices. Their group had worked together ever since Harry was fifteen and deemed good enough to take down a spider, they knew each other's tactics and weak spots as good as their own. They were the third best hunting-groups in Mirkwood-realm. The best one – most kills, least injuries –was led by Tauriel, a tall, auburn haired-woman who was very quick with her bow.

Harry shook his head. He wasn't going to let his thoughts wander. The air of tensed anticipation, grew thicker. The not-knowing what had happened to their enemy, or where the hostiles were located, was unnerving. The charm he had cast on his eyes still worked perfectly, but not even he could see the slightest movement.

It was only a moment, less than a second which they had as warning, barely enough time for Harry to turn around and see eight eyes glistening maliciously at him. A sharp pain shot through his shoulder.

'Why do spiders always attack on my side?!' was his last thought before blackness engulfed him.

* * *

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

* * *

Ginny squirmed in her bed uncomfortably as the awkward silence between her and the woman stretched. The woman didn't seem to notice as she looked out of the window, worry etched on her face, that didn't really match her beautiful features. Ginny knew that look. Her mum wore it on her face when her Dad or any of her brothers were out on a mission. Fred and George were often in the USA, where they ran their joke-shop. They gave the majority of the money to the headquarters. They weren't in danger as often as the others which bugged the two greatly, but someone had to get money. Bill was often roaming through the cities, looking for homeless people who weren't already completely brainwashed by the new government. Charlie helped people leaving the country to go overseas – mostly Romania - and settle there. Percy was their spy in the ministry, but they didn't have much contact - once every three months at most. Ron was training to become a warrior alongside his best friend Neville and went to disturb minor Death Eater raids whenever possible. They were all in danger - and Ginny couldn't be there. She couldn't hold her mum while she cried, she couldn't tell her brothers not to worry about her mother as she knew how to deal with her and she couldn't tell her father not to feel guilty for trying to fight against the Death Eaters.

And just like that, she couldn't hold back her tears anymore.

The woman wordlessly got up and walked over to her. Her eyes not leaving the window, she put an arm around Ginny and let her cry in her shoulder.

Minutes passed by as they sat there, unmoving, Ginny crying silently and the woman she hadn't even spoken a word to, still looking out of the window. For the first time in many years, her tears didn't make her feel weak and pathetic. For the first time in many years, the tears felt cleansing.

Ginny cried for her family, her friends, her lost childhood and the last bit of innocence she had left behind in those dungeons.

She didn't know how much time had passed until she regained her composure. By the time she looked up, the sun shone directly through her window – meaning it was some time around noon. The stranger still held her and softly stroked her arm. Ginny smiled shakily at her and tucked a fiery red strand of hair behind her ear.

"I'm sorry for crying all over your dress."

The woman smiled back, but it looked strained and fake. Ginny couldn't blame her. When one of her family members was on a mission she couldn't smile either.

"It is quite alright. I thought you might need a little consolation. You did look torn up, my dear."

The woman's eyes went back to the window.

"Tell me about your home. Tell me about anything. Please. I need a distraction from my terrible thoughts."

Ginny looked at the woman for a long moment, contemplating whether or not it was smart to talk about such things to a stranger. She reminded herself how Harry had seemed to trust her. Harry was the only one she trusted here. Not completely, but more than most people from the headquarters. If he trusted that woman, she could, too. She also felt the strong urge to talk – she had seen so many strange and foreign things here, that she felt the need to tell somebody about her home and to share her perspective.

"My name's Ginevra, everyone calls me Ginny though. It's been like that ever since I can remember. My brothers all have individual nicknames for me though. Except Fred and George. They're twins and both call me the same name to confuse me. I know how to tell them apart. I know that Mum and Dad do, too. I asked them about it once, because Mum keeps calling them the wrong names. They said they love the way their eyes sparkle with happiness and mischief. There's not much happiness left. There's a war going on where I come from. Every little moment of glee is precious. My brothers are the best people in the world and I miss them already. I miss Sirius, too. You see, his best friend was murdered and he was framed for it. Then their orphaned son, his godson vanished. They believe him dead. He's a legend. The godson I mean. Oh, all those myths around Harry Potter, I loved them."

She thought she'd seen the woman twitch and narrow her eyes for a moment, but her face was neutral again before Ginny could decide whether she'd seen right. Ginny didn't pause.

"I used to play pretend that I was going to marry him. He had defeated the most evil wizard in our world for a couple of years, but then the wizard was resurrected. Now he rules the country and it's horrible."

She paused shortly, trying to find new topic to talk about and brushing away a strand of hair that constantly fell into her face.

"Sirius is my best friend, my godfather, my uncle and my trainer all at once. We're not actually related by blood and I'm not officially his goddaughter, but it feels like that. He also sort of takes the role of my father when my real dad goes on long missions. Sirius taught me everything valuable I know about magic and fighting. I am a witch. That means I can do magic. I love magic. It can do such wonderful things, but most people only use it to do evil now. You can see how terrible it is in the wrong hands. What demons it can mobilize. What nightmares it can evoke. It's ironic how something can be as beautiful and horrible at the same time. "

Ginny stopped. Someone had knocked. If Ginny had interpreted right, the woman called them in. Another guy with long hair came in, carrying a tray full of food.

"For you, Maechenebil and for the injured. You are excused from lunch."

"Are there any news yet?"

The woman had a desperate tone in her voice. Ginny didn't need to understand the language in order to understand she had asked about Harry. She wondered whether she was his mother, his friend or his girlfriend. Her jet black hair suggested relative. The elf shook his head and the woman's shoulders slumped a bit. The guy nodded both of them goodbye and was gone the next moment.

Before Ginny could think of something to say, the black haired woman on the chair next to her bed spoke with a relatively heavy accent.

"My name is Maechenebil, and I usually take care of the Gardens and Harry. He often forgets he is not invulnerable, despite extensive training and magic. Sometimes he forgets to eat or to sleep. I generally look after him and care for him where he doesn't do it himself."

A shaky smile appeared on her face as she fell silent. Ginny smiled back at her.

"So you're like his mother?"

She nodded, a thoughtful expression on her face.

"You could express it like that."

Ginny wanted to ask who or where his real mother was. Badly. But she remembered her manners, just in time – she didn't want to sound as insensitive as Ron sometimes did.

"He gave me all those maps. I could read only one of them but nothing at all sounds or looks familiar. I just – I can't bring myself to feel any hope at all. I just want to go home."

Maechenebil softly put her hand on her shoulder. Ginny smiled again, grateful this time. A strand of her fiery hair fell into her face, once again. She looked at it, annoyed.

"Do you have anything I could use to tie up my hair? I love my hair, but sometimes it is just so annoying."

The black-haired beauty nodded and stood up.

"I will be back shortly – I need to get something."

She smiled briefly, reassuringly and was gone. Ginny looked around in the room. It was relatively plain, but still beautiful. It had an air of simple elegance. The walls looked a little bit like ones she had seen in an old gothic church once when she was little. It had an eternal glow to it, that couldn't be copied by any human mason. The furniture was made of a very light wood she didn't recognise. She could hear the birds singing in the garden outside her window and felt very peaceful at once. She closed her eyes, content with listening to all the sounds invading her ears and it wasn't even a full minute until she was sleeping soundly.

* * *

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

* * *

He regained consciousness slowly but steadily. The black fog in his mind cleared bit by bit and he was able to open his eyes. The white ceiling of the infirmary was the first thing he saw. Harry groaned. He had managed to get himself injured. Again. Had they succeeded in rescuing the guards? As far as he could remember, no. And it was his fault. Wonderful. Just brilliant.

"I know what you are thinking, and you are wrong. Nobody blames you and you should not blame yourself either."

Harry tried to turn his head, but found that he couldn't.

"Did we succeed though, Dad?"

"I do not know. I carried you back after the spider's venom temporarily paralyzed you. The others are alone now."

"You should've stayed and helped. I'm not more important than the lives of two others."

Maechenebil's voice was sharp like a blade as she interrupted his Dad before he could start to answer.

"You are to me. And to Prince Legolas I am sure, too. Do not for one second only assume that you are not important. The venom would have killed you without the antidote."

"Yes, but it'll kill the others, too if we're not fast enough."

"The chance of you living was greater that the chance of them living though."

"All of them can be saved. Now, when will I be able to move again?"

"You should be able to in a few hours. Until that, you will stay here."

Harry groaned. He was going to die from boredom. The two adults on both sides of him wouldn't stay with him all the time – they both had things to do. Everybody in the halls had work to – no, not everybody.

"Can you put me in the Girl's room? I'll keep her occupied and she'll keep me occupied. Please, I can't move and she can't get out of bed without breaking down. We'll talk and research. Please. Otherwise I'll annoy the healers to death."

He could almost hear both of them rolling their eyes.

"If you insist, we will let your bed be brought into her room."

* * *

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

* * *

It was about two hours later that Ginny was woke by a knock. She shook her head, a little confused and called them in.

"Harry has been temporarily paralyzed and wanted to ask if he can keep you company while he cannot move."

Ginny grinned.

"Of course, come in!"

This would be fun. She sat up as best as she could and noticed that her hair didn't fall into her face. She touched the back of her head. There was an expertly made French braid. The door opened and two men carried a cot with harry lying on it, under a white blanket. Ginny looked up as Maechenebil stood in the door frame and smiled at her.

"Thank you for braiding my hair. I'm sure it looks absolutely lovely, but sadly I can't see it."

"It was my pleasure, Ginevra. I will make sure to bring a mirror the next time I visit. I must go now though. The garden doesn't pluck the weeds by itself."

She smiled at both of them one last time and closed the door behind her.

Ginny turned her head towards the cot.

"Can you move? At all?"

"My face. But nothing else. Well, my fingertips, but that's not useful."

She couldn't help but snicker.

"Sorry. But at the moment you remind me of a bug that's lying on its back and can't get up without help."

She could hear him snort.

"That's not funny."

The snickers turned into loud laughter.

"Yes, it is."

She could hear he was trying to stop laughing himself, but was failing miserably.

"Okay, okay, it is funny. But what is not at all amusing is that I can't help to rescuing the remaining two guards and that they could be dying right in this moment."

She stopped laughing at once and asked, sober and earnest.

"What did happen? The guard spoke another language and I couldn't understand anything he said."

"The spiders left their territory, they intruded in ours further than ever before. They abducted two guards from the docks at the river. We don't know whether they're still alive."

His voice sounded hollow. Ginny frowned and mustered his forlorn expression.

"You're blaming yourself."

He looked like a child caught stealing cookies.

"Why?"

"Because if I wasn't for my injury, my Dad and I both could have helped rescuing them and we wouldn't have lost them precious time!"

"Did you do everything you could have done?"

"Yes, but –"

"Could you have done anything to prevent being bitten?"

"No, but-"

"Then how would you have wanted to prevent it?"

"I could have –"

"Stopped time? Slowed time down? Been faster? But you couldn't have been. You did everything you could. You can't do more than everything."

Harry stayed silent this time. A frown was on his face, and she could see that he was getting her logic. Ginny knew the attitude she had. Bill was the same. Sirius, too. They both just needed to get the words beaten into their head with no chance of countering with their weak points. They just wanted to persuade themselves of their fault in order to not blame anyone else – you couldn't let them even start persuading.

"I guess you have a point there."

"No. I don't just have a point, I'm absolutely right. It was the spiders' fault for abducting the guards in the first place. You didn't tell them to do that."

She could see him turning his head, just slightly, but still turning to look at her. The frown on his face was still present, as well as the thoughtful expression as their eyes met.

"I… I believe you. I don't know why, because it should be my fault, but, I believe you. I'm really not to blame – it's the spiders. Not me."

He sounded unbelieving, though more because he had let himself be persuaded. Harry was obviously not used to being persuaded, to believe that something was not his fault. That she had been able to get him to believe her, made Ginny feel oddly proud and happy.

* * *

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

* * *

 


End file.
